Regaining
by Vivien B
Summary: When Hermione is poisoned with an Elixir designed to destroy her magic, Severus Snape is the only one who can help her regain her powers.
1. Regaining 1: Reacting

Regaining by Vivien B. 

Rating: PG-13 

Summary: When Hermione is poisoned with an Elixir designed to destroy her magic, Severus Snape is the only one who can help her regain her powers. Not a romance, but the sequel in my head is. But she is still a bit too young in this one for me ;) 

Disclaimer: I do not claim any of J.K.Rowling's wonderful characters. I am just borrowing them for awhile. 

Author's Note: Any feedback would be great. This is the first thing I have ever written which looks like it may go on for more than a chapter or two. I owe a great deal of gratitude to Riley's "Pawn to Queen" for the idea of Severus Snape not being just a miserable meanie. Thanks to the folks at Snapefans and WIKTT who just are so much fun. Thank you to my Beta readers Lallybroch at Sugar Quill (chapters 1-3 so far) and Jen, and finally to Aspen who is supplying me with Muggle science as we speak. And last but not least, thanks to TwinkleDru for bringing the whole thing up off-topic on the Buffy list. 

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**Chapter 2: Reacting **

_Reacting - 4. responding to a stimulus _

It was a beautiful late October day in Hogsmeade. Hermione, Harry, and Ron had been enjoying their 6th year at Hogwarts so far. It had been quiet, and that was of utmost importance these days. Voldemort's power was on the rise, and there was little they could do about it. Last term had been the most harrowing one ever, what with the assassination of Cornelius Fudge and the ensuing chaos in the Ministry of Magic. The atmosphere at Hogwarts was one of tension and nervousness, as news of disappearances and bad portents trickled in daily by owl post. But today, at least, the students in Hogsmeade had a chance to relax and enjoy themselves. 

The three teens were sitting at a corner table at the Three Broomsticks Pub, chatting about anything but the events in the Wizarding world around them. 

"So you mean to tells us," said Ron incredulously, "that after passing all your O.W.L.'s with the highest grades you could've possibly gotten, you're worried you might not do well on the N.E.W.T.'s? Hermione, you've the whole of this year and half of next to study." 

"I just want to do well," said Hermione. "I mean, if I want to work for the Ministry, my grades have to be top notch." 

"Don't worry, Hermione, " said Harry, "Ron is still reeling from passing all of his. Any thoughts of further study are absolutely impossible after that ordeal." 

"Right you are!" laughed Ron, taking a drink of his Butter Beer. 

"How are Fred and George doing with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Inc.?" asked Hermione. 

"Oh, really brilliant! They are doing brisk business with the 2nd year Hufflepuffs for some reas ---" Ron was interrupted by loud cracking sound, followed by bright sparks and yells coming from the back of the pub. 

Everyone in the pub turned to look at two hooded strangers who were dueling with their wands in the back of the room. Rosmerta and one of her larger workers were rushing towards the duo to break things up. The pub was filled with frantic whisperings and gasps. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were watching as well, and so did not feel the whisper of air as their table was approached by a figure in an invisibility cloak. Nor did they see when an amber liquid dripped into Hermione's glass. 

The dueling wizards had by now been subdued and were being guided out of the pub. 

"No harm done," called out Rosmerta, as she roughly ushered one towards the door at wand point. "Just a slight disagreement over a Quidditch bet." Her voice seemed strained, and her smile fixed in place. 

The crowd in the pub slowly resumed talking and drinking, but there was a more subdued mood present now. 

"It doesn't take much does it," said Harry, sighing. 

"I know," replied Hermione, taking a drink, "I think we're all a little jumpy -- ugh, bitter ---" She screwed up her face and put down her glass. Her face had gone white, and she was starting to shake. She looked up, frightened and surprised. "Something's wrong --- feeling funny --- head..." With that Hermione, collapsed in her chair, grabbing her head and screaming. 

The boys sat frozen a moment in shock. Then, as the crowd around them realized that there was something else unusual happening, panic took over. 

"Hermione! Hermione!" Ron shouted, jumping down to where Hermione lay writhing on the ground. "Harry get some help!" 

Harry was already out of his chair running towards Rosmerta, who was trying to calm frightened customers fleeing towards the doors. She rushed over with her wand out. 

"What happened?" Rosmerta asked, looking down at the screaming girl now sprawled in Ron's arms. 

"I don't know," said Harry, bewildered. "She said her drink tasted funny and then she collapsed." 

Rosmerta held her wand over Hermione, muttering a charm to no effect. 

"Mirinda!" she yelled to one of the barkeeps, "Send our fastest owl to Dumbledore. Tell him we have a poisoned student who is not responding to the normal Halting Charm." 

She turned to the boys while she scooped Hermione up in her arms. "I am going to Apparate to the edge of the grounds and then rush her up to the school. Hurry back to school- I'm sure Dumbledore will want to talk to you. Bella, you're in charge!" With a pop, she and Hermione were gone. 

Harry and Ron took one look at each other and then started running. 

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Headmaster Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were waiting for Rosmerta and Hermione at the doors of Hogwarts. Rosmerta gave them the sketchy details of what had happened, and the name of the Halting charms she had tried, as they were whisking the still screaming and thrashing Hermione along the corridors in a conjured stretcher. Dumbledore was grave as they reached the hospital ward. 

"Thank you for your speedy action, Rosmerta," said Dumbledore, "I am sure you will be needed back at Hogsmeade." 

Rosmerta nodded and went back the way she came. 

"Headmaster, what can be wrong with her?" asked a frantic Madame Pomfrey. "None of my spells are working either." She magicked Hermione onto a bed and then conjured restraints to hold Hermione's writhing arms and legs down. "And I have never had to restrain a student. The Soothing charms aren't working either." 

"Poppy, bring me the strongest poison antidote you can find and then go find Professor Snape." She rushed to a locked cabinet and touched it with her wand. She grabbed a vial and brought it to the Headmaster. Then she rushed out the door on the way to the dungeons. 

As Madame Pomfrey left, Harry and Ron rushed in out of breath and faces full of fear. 

"Is she okay?" asked Ron as Harry said, "I think she was poisoned." 

Dumbledore was sitting by Hermione, with his hand over her forehead. Her screams had now quieted down to low moans, but she was still fighting her constraints. The look on her face was one of the most abject despair and pain. Dumbledore was trying to guide the contents of one of the vials down Hermione's throat. 

"I don't know what is wrong," said Dumbledore quietly. "I only know that something magically strong is working inside of her. Professor Snape may have some insights to help in this case." 

"Snape?" snarled Ron quietly to Harry, "He'll probably be glad to see her out of commission." 

With perfect timing, Professor Snape glided into to the room, his expression sour as usual when in the same room as Harry. He shot an evil look at Ron as he passed by him and replied coldly, "Perhaps, Mr. Weasley, you would like to get out of my way so that I can attend to Miss Granger." Madame Pomfrey bustled in behind him, wringing her hands. 

Harry and Ron stepped back, and Harry said, "She had just taken a drink when this happened. She said there was a bitter taste, and her head felt funny. And then she started screaming." 

"Severus?" said Dumbledore, regarding the Potions master seriously. Snape was feeling Hermione's pulse and then opening her eyelids. 

"Have you tried the Intoxicatum spell?" asked Snape, eyes only on Hermione, who was still crying out pitifully. 

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "Madame Pomfrey did right before I sent her for you." 

"But did she do it correctly?" snapped Snape looking up. 

"Of course she did, Severus," replied Dumbledore calmly as Madame Pomfrey "humphed" with disgust. "I tried every other Poison Halting and Soothing spell the others hadn't. I also tried to give her the strongest purgative we have here. She cannot be calmed enough to swallow. Do you have an idea about what this could be?" 

Severus put his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. "I do," he said grimly and then got to his feet. "There may be nothing... but maybe... I will be right back." He stood up and hurried out of the room. 

"Headmaster," said Harry, realizing the seriousness of the situation, "Is Hermione going to die?" 

"Couldn't we fly her to St. Mungo's?" said Ron, panic raising his voice, "Or Apparate her there or something?" 

Dumbledore slowly stood up and walked to them. "I don't think she will die, but I know that her situation is grave. We have an expert on poisons here at Hogwarts, and he will do better for her than anyone at St. Mungo's could. Boys, may I send you on an important task?" When both boys nodded their heads, he continued, "Please go back to the Three Broomsticks and see if you can retrieve the contents of Hermione's glass." 

"We will, straight away," said Harry. He and Ron both took one last glance at Hermione and then left for Hogsmeade. 

Dumbledore closed is eyes. 'Just as well to get the boys out of here,' he thought. 'It will keep their minds busy. Much better than waiting and watching.' 

Snape rushed back into the hospital ward, a black vial in his hand. He walked to Hermione's bedside, more concern on his face than Dumbledore had seen in a great while. Dumbledore asked, "Is this poisoning what I think it is?" 

"It is the Leeching Elixir, although I can't imagine how it has been replicated," said Severus, his voice monotone with shock. "I destroyed all notes on it when I left the service of the Dark Lord. It had never gone past a hypothetical phase... Oh gods, what have I done?" 

"Severus," said Dumbledore kindly, "please judge yourself not on what you did then, but on what you are doing now. 

"Headmaster," Severus said quietly, " I need to give her this antidote, but she needs to be able to drink it all, not one drop spilling. Do you have any suggestions to help her?" Snape looked at Dumbledore, desire to help the girl fighting against the fear of what he thought he might have to do. 

With a sigh and a look of complete neutrality, Dumbledore replied, "I have no suggestions for you on how to give her this palliative, but I think drastic measures are required. Poppy, would you please accompany me to the library? Perhaps we can find some information to help Miss Granger there." 

"Of course, Headmaster," replied Madame Pomfrey, and she hurried to the Headmaster's side. As they walked out the door, Dumbledore turned and said, "Severus, remember that you are trusted. Whatever you think must be done has my full approval." 

Severus grimly nodded his head. He knew exactly why he had been left alone with Hermione. He was going to have to use drastic measures indeed to break through the magical influence she was under. He also knew why the Headmaster should not do it, even though he was fully capable. Enough time had been wasted. 

"Imperio!" cried Snape in a ragged voice, focusing all of his will on making the poor girl before him relax.. Hermione stopped moaning. Her contorted face relaxed, and she took a deep breath. Snape put his arm under her shoulders and lifted her up enough to drink down the vial's contents. Once she had drunk, he guided her limp body back down to the bed. "Imperio finitum," he said and then muttered, "Please let this work." 

Hermione convulsed once, but she did not start struggling again. Nor did she resume screaming and moaning. Snape flicked his wand to remove the restraints from her wrists and then carefully placed her arms under the warm blankets. He relaxed back in his chair with relief, but he was still very concerned for this child's future. She had been given a Leeching Elixir, a potion concept he had invented as a Death Eater. It was designed to leech the magical capabilities out of Muggle born witches and wizards. 


	2. Regaining 2: Responsibility

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 2: Responsibility **

_Responsibility - 3. accountable as being the cause of something _

Severus went to the medical supply cabinet and got out a small vial and pricking needle. He would need to take a sample of Hermione's blood to analyze how far the poison had spread into her system. He would then need to formulate a more specific antidote to repair what could be repaired the moment she awoke from the coma-like state she was in. This was all his fault. Just when he thought he was doing some good, trying to prove to himself he was no longer a filthy Death Eater, a reminder of his past misdeeds had surfaced in this fashion and brought down the best student at Hogwarts. 

Dumbledore came back into the room, carrying a few dusty books. "I see our patient is in a better state," he remarked, "I know you did the right thing." 

Severus could not meet the Headmaster's eyes. "I did the only thing. I will analyze her blood to see what I can do further. I may need to take time from my classes for the research." He raised an eyebrow, "I am sure my students would not be crushed if classes were canceled." 

"Take the time you need," said Dumbledore. "It important that we proceed carefully. I would assume that we will be under a great deal of scrutiny from many eyes. And Miss Granger will need your skills to help her once she awakens." 

"How could this have happened?" said Severus harshly. "How could they have perfected the elixir? I never even came close, thank Merlin. Of course they would pick the most powerful and knowledgeable student I have ever taught to victimize." 

"Hermione has strength in addition to her brilliance," said Dumbledore, "I am hoping she will be able to draw on that. Now Severus," he continued, reaching out to put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "Go work on the antidote." 

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Hermione gradually came aware of herself again. She felt like she was swimming in mud, totally submerged under warm, heavy waves. She slowly realized there was soft light at the top of the mud water, and flickers of sounds came through to her ears. As she struggled up through the depths, she became aware of a pounding in her head. She opened her eyes slowly. 

She looked around her. She thought this might be the infirmary, but she was too confused to make much sense of what she was seeing. It was dark, but a few candles were lit to illuminate the darkness. She stretched and pulled herself up onto her pillows to find herself looking right into the tired face of Severus Snape. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, but when he spoke it was with his usual taunting voice. "So Miss Granger, you finally deign to wake up. I was beginning to wonder if you were trying to keep me up as late as possible for the fun of it." 

"What... what happened?" asked Hermione, her voice scratchy and odd sounding. 

"You are in the hospital wing, and you must drink this immediately," he said, pushing a red vial to her lips. She automatically drank it without thinking. It was vile, and after she swallowed, the pounding in her head swelled intensely. 

"Owwww," she cried, clasping her head. An intense stabbing of pain ripped through her brain, and then was gone. All that was left was a slight aching feeling. "Oh, that's better," she sighed and relaxed back on the pillows. "What happened to me?" 

A flicker of concern crossed his face. "I think perhaps you should tell me," he said, in the kind of questioning voice he used when in the classroom. 

Hermione closed her eyes as she tried to remember. "The last thing I remember was I was in Hogsmeade. There was a fight and we were all watching what was happening and then my drink tasted strangely. I remember being in excruciating pain and then... well, that's really all I remember. What time is it?" 

"It's twenty past two in the morning. The morning of Tuesday, November 3rd, that is," replied Severus, watching for Hermione's response closely. 

"What?" cried Hermione, sitting up quickly, "Tuesday? I've been asleep for over three days?" Then she gasped in horror, "Oh no! I missed an Arithmancy exam! And all my other classes besides!" 

Severus, with an amused smile Hermione had never seen on his face, replied, "Don't worry Miss Granger, I am sure Professor Vector, and in fact, all of your professors, will make allowances for you. You have been seriously ill, and we have all been worried." 

"Even you?" Hermione said incredulously, then clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock at what she'd said. 

Using tact that also had never been in evidence before this night, Severus ignored her outburst. "Miss Granger, I need to ask you to do something, and then I will leave you to the capable hands on Madame Pomfrey." 

Hermione looked up at him, a bit frightened. She was still not really sure why he would be here so late at night, waiting for her to wake up. "W-what do you want?" she asked. 

"Please summon your wand. It is here on the bedside table." He was regarding her very shrewdly. It was critical to assess what magic she still possessed. 

"Accio wand," commanded Hermione. With fits and starts, the wand levitated and slowly wobbled into her hand. A small burst of pain exploded in her skull. "Ow! That hurt. Why did it hurt?" She looked at Severus, and seeing his concerned expression, began to panic. "And why didn't my wand come straight to me?" 

"The Headmaster will speak with you in the morning," he replied. "He wanted you to be well rested before---" 

"Am I dying?" she exclaimed, "Is that why you're being nice to me? I was obviously poisoned. Oh God, I am dying, aren't I?" 

"You are not dying," he replied curtly, "And you need to get some rest." He stood up, smoothing out his crumpled robes as he did. 

"Are you certain? You have never been so nice to me, well... ever," 

"I am certain. And I suspect you have never been poisoned before this?" Severus smirked as he spoke. Hermione nodded. "Well then, Miss Granger, it is a night for firsts for the both of us." 

He swept past the privacy curtains and said, "Madame Pomfrey, I have seen what I needed to see. I will leave you and your ward in peace now." 

"Humph!" replied Madame Pomfrey under her breath, "About time." She rustled in to stand by Hermione's bed. "Oh, are you awake then? How are you feeling, my dear?" She beamed down at Hermione. 

"Confused," blinked Hermione, "And very tired. Madame Pomfrey, what is wrong with me?" 

Her smile faltered a bit, but Madame Pomfrey's voice remained cheery. "Well now, my dear, not to worry. The Headmaster will be speaking with you in the morning. Just know you have the best people working on making you better." 

"Like Professor Snape?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow, "If he's working on my case, then I shall continue to be concerned. OH!" she exclaimed, "Harry and Ron - are they all right? Were they poisoned as well" 

"Oh no, Miss Granger, they are fine. They've been coming to check on you every hour on the hour. Now here, eat this chocolate, and then you really must get some more sleep. The morning will be here soon enough." 

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione ate the square of chocolate and almost immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

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Severus had gone to Dumbledore's office immediately after leaving Hermione's bedside. He had some very good news to report. 

"Ah, Severus, come in. Please sit. Would you like some hot chocolate?" said Dumbledore, looking up from behind what looked like a large stack of paperwork at his desk. 

"No thank you, sir," he replied, sitting down on the edge of the hearth. The heat of the fire felt intensely good on his stiff back. 

"So our patient has awakened, and from the look on your face, things are not as grim as we feared?" 

"She was able to weakly summon her wand," said Severus, "Thank Merlin, she still has some magic intact. Her mind is also as sharp as can be expected - no significant memory loss. In fact, she was very concerned that she had missed an Arithmancy exam today." 

Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh yes, that sounds like Miss Granger." His expression changed then, looking very weary for a moment. "Severus, you know full well what implications this has. If this Leeching Elixir is successful, the wizarding world faces a danger unlike any we have faced before. I cannot even imagine the panic news of this would cause. Do you think Miss Granger can be rehabilitated?" 

Severus rubbed his temples tiredly. "I don't know. I think so. It depends on the amount of damage to the magical energy in her brain. If the damage is isolated, I think I can configure some magnifying potions to help boost her powers. I am worried more because when she summoned her wand, she experienced pain. Recovery may be difficult if this pain continues." 

"I have no doubt it will be," said Dumbledore, "but it is vital we try. Not only for Hermione, but for all of us." 

Severus nodded in agreement, but he was not prepared for what Dumbledore said next. 

"I would like for you to be in charge of Miss Granger's recovery." 

"But Headmaster, I am not a Healer ---" Severus managed to sputter out in surprise. 

"I know you aren't, Severus, but she will need someone who is well versed in the possible effects of the poison she was given, and what can counteract it. She will also need someone who is firm in regards to pushing her healing progress. People in pain often need more than friendly encouragement to improve. If you have specific concerns about how to approach this, you can contact a good friend of mine at St. Mungo's who can be trusted." 

"I appreciate the confidence you place in me sir, but wouldn't Minerva be a better choice? Or if there is someone who could do better at St. Mungo's?" Severus said desperately. 

Dumbledore regarded Severus for a moment. He knew the Potions master better than the man thought. He was clearly the only person at Hogwarts, or the entire wizarding world for that matter, skilled enough to deal with the complexities of a poisoning such as this. It was also very important that they keep news of this as quiet as possible, so sending Hermione to St. Mungo's would be an unwise choice. He also knew that Severus was also the only person at Hogwarts who had difficulty dealing with others on a personal level. He avoided his colleagues as well as he could, and Dumbledore was well aware of the conflicting emotions Severus felt towards... certain students. Assigning him to this task would be difficult for both Hermione and Severus, but as was the way with Albus Dumbledore, he could also see the possible positive ramifications of this path far outweighing the present hardships. Then he said in a voice which was gentle, yet would brook no opposition, "Severus, you will be in charge of Miss Granger's recovery." 

Severus knew there would be no further debate. "All right," he said defeatedly. "When do you want me to begin?" 

"I will consult with Madame Pomfrey in the morning. I expect Hermione will need to rest a few more days at least. But then I think it will be in all of our best interests if we try to make things as normal seeming as possible. I will convene an emergency staff meeting with all of her teachers tomorrow afternoon so we can discuss this matter further. Now Severus," he said kindly," Go get some sleep. You have more than earned it" 

As Severus descended the stairs to his dungeon rooms, the quiet of the castle was like a balm to his nerves. 'If only it could always be as quiet and as empty', he thought. 'Of course that horrid brat Potter could be waltzing by in his Invisibility Cloak at this very moment. So much for quiet and empty.' He was certain some attempt to search his office for clues to Hermione's condition had either been made or was being planned by Potter and Weasley. Ironically, they were right to look at him as prime suspect for a change. 

But how had the Elixir been perfected? Severus could not think of any one in the ranks of the Death Eaters who had the ability to develop it. He had isolated most of the ingredients of the potion from the samples from Hermione's drink and blood, but what elements he had found did not have the power to cause this much damage. It was an infuriating puzzle. By the time he reached his office, he knew he would probably not sleep this night - his mind was whirring about in circles trying to figure out how the hell this could be happening and what he could do about it. He walked through his dark office to the back wall, where he tapped out a sequence on the brick wall. The doorway to his private living quarters appeared. 

His rooms were small, cold, and spare. Severus did not need much in the way of personal comforts. The living area had a rarely used hearth, one armchair which was used only slightly more than the hearth, and a large table and hardback chair. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and the bookshelves were filled with orderly rows of books and neat stacks of parchment scrolls. He muttered "Lumos" to light the lantern on the ceiling and went straight to one of the shelves. He pulled out a large, very dusty book and sat down at the table. In contrast to the bookshelves, the table was cluttered with stacks of opened books, unrolled scrolls, and notes written on sheaves of parchment. Severus sighed before he opened the new book. If he began researching, he would definitely not be able to sleep. However, it was too late to take a sleeping potion, and they rarely worked well anymore. Attempting to lie down and sleep would be disastrous. He opened the book. Maybe he would find something to solve this riddle tonight. At the very least, he wouldn't have more nightmares. 

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Hermione had drifted in and out of sleep for most of Tuesday. When she fully woke up the second time, she could see the bright afternoon sun filtering in through the hospital ward's windows. She recalled Dumbledore speaking with her, but she was not really comprehending everything fully. She knew she had been poisoned, and that she had been especially targeted due to her Muggle birth - and probably due to her association with Harry as well. Dumbledore had said that the two wizards who had caused the disturbance at the Three Broomsticks had disappeared as soon as they had been ushered out. They had not been traced as yet, but Dumbledore had assured her that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was working on the case. 

These things she could understand. But a poison leeching the magic out of her? That was incomprehensible. There had to be a way to research this and make things better. She was still so very tired, even after sleeping almost four days in a row. She didn't think she could research much more than the insides of her eyelids at this point. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by two familiar voices. 

"Hey, your eyes are finally open," Ron said, plopping a bouquet of fresh flowers into the vase on her bedside table. 

"Do you mind a visit?" asked Harry. 

"Not at all. It's good to see you both," she replied. Her voice sounded strange and almost hollow. 

A rustling of skirts announced Madame Pomfrey's presence. "Only a short visit, now, boys. Miss Granger needs her rest." 

"We won't keep her long," said Harry, turning on his natural charm. "We just wanted to say hello." 

Madame Pomfrey smiled. "Of course, dear." She walked back over to her desk, leaving the trio of friends to themselves. 

"How are you, Hermione?" Ron asked softly. "We've been so worried about you." 

"Yeah, Hermione, you had us pretty scared." 

"I haven't been exactly full of ease myself," she said, sitting up a bit more. "Would you pour me a glass of water, Harry?" 

Harry, who was closest to the water pitcher, did as she asked. Ron sat down on the bed beside Hermione, and Harry pulled up the chair Snape had been sitting in earlier that morning. Hermione had a flash of the strange moment when she had woken up to see him there. Had that really happened? This whole experience was becoming too surreal. 

"So do you know what's going on?" asked Harry in a hushed tone. "No one is telling us anything other than you were poisoned, and that you'll be all right." 

"We tried to get in to see Dumbledore, but had no luck," said Ron. 

"He talked with me earlier," she said, after taking a big drink of water. She was about to tell her friends about the conversation, but she was still trying to sort through what she wanted to repeat. It would be better to change the subject until she could think a bit more clearly. "Tell me what happened. I don't really remember anything after the duel." 

Ron and Harry told her what they could, which was not much. Ron vowed to find the people who had done this to her and make them pay. Harry simply sat and looked at her quietly. He had never seen Hermione look so ill, not even when she had been Petrified. 

"So I was screaming the entire time?" said Hermione. "No wonder my throat still feels so scratchy." She lay back onto the pillows and closed her eyes. 

Harry nudged Ron, and they both stood up. "We'll go for now, Hermione," Harry said. "We know you're tired." 

She smiled at them and said, "Thanks for coming. I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow." She was already asleep by the time they had walked out the door. 

As they were walking down the hallway, Ron said worriedly, "She didn't even ask about homework." 

Harry nodded, equally grim. They walked in silence back to Gryffindor tower, each wishing Hermione was walking along with them. 


	3. Regaining Chapter 3: Reluctance

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 5: Reluctance**

_Reluctance - 1. a not wanting to do or to agree to something_

On the last day Hermione had been in hospital, the Headmaster had spoken with her privately once more. It had been only a week since that day in Hogsmeade, and she was still stunned by the thought of what had happened. Once she had gotten enough rest to begin the semblance of rational thought, the realization that she might have lost a significant portion of her magical powers was horrifying. Dumbledore had let her know as gently as possible that news of what had been done to her would cause panic in the wizarding world, and he cautioned her about even telling Harry and Ron too many details. He was looking to her to use the strength and courage that made her a Gryffindor to battle this. And then, he had given her the absolute worse news - Snape was to be the one to help with her recovery. Snape had always been quite horrid to her (except for the fleeting moment when she woke up that night in the hospital wing, and even then she couldn't be sure that wasn't her imagination). She knew he was on "their side" of the war, but that didn't make her want to spend two extra hours a week alone with him in his dungeon classroom. 'Why on earth couldn't Professor McGonagle be helping me?' she complained to herself,'or Dumbledore himself for that matter? Snape will probably take points away from me if I can't get my spells to work.' Alone in her bedroom the night after coming back to Gryffindor tower, she had cried long and bitterly after trying several spells which had been as easy as breathing before. None of them had worked well, and performing them had left her with a vicious headache. Still she waited a few days before she could bear telling Ron and Harry. 

They had been walking with her around the grounds to help her build her strength back before she was to resume partial classes. She waited until they were far enough away to ensure their privacy, and then she told them as matter of factly as possible what she was now facing. She understood why Dumbledore had asked her to be cautious, but she could have never kept this secret from her two best friends. 

"How?" cried Ron, "How could a poison do this to you? Doesn't Dumbledore know what to do?" 

"I don't know how, Ron, " she said, "And to tell you the truth, I don't think this is something even Dumbledore knows much about." 

Harry had come up to her and hugged her. "Hermione, we'll help you through this. There has to be something that we can do to get your powers back. I'll practice with you, and we can do homework together." 

"I'm not Neville," she said sharply. 

"I know that, Hermione," he said gently, "but you will need help now. I'm more sorry than you can imagine that this happened, but we will be there for you." 

"Maybe we should research this in the library," said Ron, trying to be cheerful. He put his arm around her shoulder. 

Hermione placed her hand on Ron's hand and took Harry's hand in her other. "I am so frightened," she said before she could stop the words. Tears were pricking up in her eyes, and she felt her face go hot with the effort of holding them back. The boys said nothing, but they moved in closer to her, comforting her silently. "And now I have to go see Snape twice a week Dumbledore said he was the only one who could help me." Nothing could hold the tears back now. 

Ron and Harry were frozen for a moment at this news. 

"What?" said Ron incredulously, "You have to see him? What do you mean?" 

"I.. I have to go to his classroom for-for two hours a week, " she said in between sobs. "He's supposed to help me b-build up my magic, if I can, and he's working on new p-potions for me to take." 

"We'll go with you," said Harry firmly. 

"Yeah, " replied Ron, "Then the bastard won't be able to slip you something to make you worse" 

"Oh honestly, Ron, " she said as her tears slowed somewhat, "He's on our side. I just don't look forward to spending the extra time doing... whatever I'm going to have to do. I'm going to be so behind in my class work. If my grades go down then I might not get into the Auror training program like we'd planned. And...and I don't want to be like N-Neville." She began crying full force again. 

Ron conjured a handkerchief. "Here now, you're getting your robes soaking wet." 

"It's going to be all right, Hermione," said Harry. "It has to be." 

"We are the Unstoppable Three after all, " said Ron. 

Hermione laughed a bit at that. She dried her face and looked at her friends. A tiny feeling of hope bloomed inside her. "I feel a little better now," she said still sniffing. "Just telling you what's been on my mind helped. And I'm sure the special classes with Snape won't be as dire as I fear. Dumbledore has always trusted him, and he does know a lot about potions. He might be nicer with just one student than with a whole class." 

"Or he might be worse with only you to pick on," scowled Ron. "I say we go with her." 

"No," said Hermione. "I'll be all right." She had suddenly realized that she didn't want them to see how bad off she might be. It would be too upsetting to see her alarm reflected in their eyes. "Besides, Snape would probably just take more points off you two for standing up for me. I can talk to Dumbledore about it if it's that bad. Listen, can we start back? I'm getting rather tired. As usual." 

"Sure, Hermione," said Harry. "Please, though, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I have my Drying charm down pat now." He smiled at her, and she felt the heaviness in her chest lessen somewhat. 

Ron replied, "And I have an endless supply of hankies just for you." He held out an arm for her to take. She smiled, took his arm, and they walked back to the castle. 

--------------------------------------------------------------- 

The following Monday was her first day back to partial classes. She was only going to three classes this week. Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures started Monday, and she would resume Herbology Tuesday. For once, she was the subject of whispers throughout the corridors instead of Harry. The official word was that she had in fact been poisoned and had been gravely ill, but she would slowly be regaining her strength. She had been off from classes a full week after leaving hospital. Even though she had spent most of that time resting, she was still exhausted beyond belief. She was also in a quite unpleasant and despairing mood most of the time despite Harry and Ron's efforts to cheer her and support her. 

Much to her dismay, Snape had notified her that their meeting times were to be on Mondays and Thursdays. By the time she finished the two classes of the day, she was tired enough without the prospect of that unpleasantness still ahead of her. She had needed a long nap after lunch. Care of Magical Creatures had been nightmarish. This term the class was taking care of Scorpion Squirrels, bright yellow balls of fluff that would have been adorable but for the sharp pincers and stinging tail. Hermione's Squirrel had been quite miffed about her absence and was being most difficult to control. To make matters worse, Draco Malfoy had taken the opportunity to come over and whisper unctuously in her ear, "How's your head, Mudblood?" He had snickered knowingly, filling her with rage and a sickening helplessness. Hagrid was being overly kind to her, which she knew was meant well, but which began to annoy her almost instantly. 

Arithmancy had been a relief, even though she couldn't help noticing Professor Vector did not call on her as often as usual. Still, though, sinking into the numbers and patterns of the lesson made her feel a little better. At least her brain would still work well, even if her magic wouldn't. 

The other Gryffindors were treating her like she was made of glass and the wrong words might shatter her to pieces. They would soothe her with kind and encouraging words and then change the subject to Quidditch or the N.E.W.TS. or homework horrors. At least when she was alone with Harry and Ron, she could rant and rail and cry on their shoulders. But even with them, she felt a bit distanced by her moodiness. She worried they would get tired of her constantly dumping her raw feelings on them and start exchanging looks and changing the subject as well. 

By the time she had made her way up to her dormitory, what she wanted most in the world was to just sleep until dinner, but she knew she was expected in the Potions classroom at 4:00. She was feeling quite sorry for herself and quite angry by the time she woke up and trudged down to the dungeons. When she walked into Snape's classroom, she had never in her life felt less like pleasing a teacher. 


	4. Regaining Chapter 4: Revealing

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 6: Revealing **

_Revealing - 2. exposing to view; show_ing 

Hermione sat down at a table in the middle of the potions classroom room. Severus looked up to see an extremely petulant expression on her face. 'Oh well, this _is_ going to be jolly good fun,' he thought to himself. He had been dreading this meeting as much, if not more, than she had. He had the technical knowledge to help her. The Magnifying potion was ready, and he had developed a more specific pain killer for her headaches. However, from what the healer from St. Mungo's had shared with him, there were always intensive emotions that went with serious injuries and recoveries. He was definitely not prepared to deal with that. He had found teenagers to be a maelstrom of emotions that under normal circumstances he tried to avoid like the Black Plague. He slipped into his usual "Five points from Gryffindor" teaching mode in preparation for dealing with the uncertainties of the next hour. 

"Miss Granger, I assume you have been informed why you are supposed to be here?" he asked with a cold voice that came much too easily. 

Hermione nodded, still glaring. 

"You will not find a friend or confidant here, Miss Granger," he continued. "I have been charged with trying to make you better, and I will do my duty as best I can. You will think of this as an independent study class. And as with any of my classes, you will receive no special treatment." 

"What a surprise," Hermione muttered under her breath. "May I have permission to speak, sir?" she said in a snide voice which rivaled his. 

"What is it?" he snapped, a bit warily. 

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded, "You aren't a Healer. It is obvious that you hate me. Why bother?" She looked up at him defiantly. 

"Valid question," he said, his eyes closed to slits. He wanted very much to be furious with her, to throw her out of his dungeon classroom and be left in peace. He was, however, surprised to find himself rather pleased at her defiance. If she had come to him in her usual know-it-all, future Head Girl manner, he would have been truly annoyed. He understood anger. This Hermione he might be able to deal with better. He also found an inconvenient mix of his own emotions coming to the forefront. Battling in his conscience was more than a fair amount of guilt over having been the cause of this and anger at having to deal with it. A sympathy he hadn't expected was present as well - the child looked so very tired. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and spoke again, working very hard to make his voice less harsh. "Miss Granger, I am not a Healer, no. But I know a great deal about the poison you were given, and how I may go about countering its effects. To be a Potions master, one must have a great deal of knowledge about human physiology. As to your allegation-" he paused, making eye contact with her, "I do not hate you. In fact, you are one of the few students whose talent and intelligence I have come to admire, though I am sure you will be greatly surprised to know it. I simply do not appreciate class interruptions or peers who coddle those who can not do for themselves. Now, may we begin?" 

Hermione watched him with suspicion, but she felt some of the raw anger fading in the face of facts. The Headmaster had told her much the same as Snape had. Well, except for the not hating her part, but she was still not too sure about that. 

Severus noticed her reluctance. "I, of course, have several texts borrowed from St. Mungo's medical library regarding magical brain injury. These are for you to read at your leisure." He had been hoping her well known love of books and research would work to both their benefits during these sessions. 

Hermione's eyes brightened slightly. She had already been to the library, looking for that exact information and finding nothing of use. "All right," she said finally, getting up from her stool and moving closer to where he stood at the front of the room, "What can you do for me?" 

Severus smiled wryly. "First of all, I would like to show you something." He reached down and unrolled a large scroll and spread it out over the table. "This is a small part of a large body of research done by two renowned healers and researchers, Caldonia Hightower and Alphonsus Goyle." 

Hermione looked down at the scroll, "Goyle?" she said thinking out loud, "Not related to Gregory, I hope?" 

To her astonishment, Snape laughed softly. "As I recall, they are _extremely_ distant relations." 

Hermione stared at Snape. Had he actually made a joke about one of his beloved Slytherins? She ventured a small smile. 

'Just start reading... if I can reach her strictly on an intellectual level, we both may survive this,' thought Severus. 

"Please, Miss Granger, sit." He gestured to the empty stool beside her. 

The parchment showed color diagrams of two brains. Areas inside each of the figures were lighting up to show what she guessed was the electrical activity present in the brains. The labels above each diagram read "Figure A: Witch of Non-Muggle Parentage performing Wingardium Leviosa" and "Figure B: Witch of Muggle Parentage performing same". 

Hermione sat down and began reading the text. 

**On the Differences in Brain Activity in the Wizarding World, Parchment 3a: The Brain Waves in Magic Users of Muggle and Non-Muggle Descent by Caldonia Hightower and Alphonsus Goyle, Co-Directors of the Neurological Research Facility at St. Mungo's Hospital **

**We, the co-writers if this document, would like to clearly state that this research is being done out of intellectual curiosity and for no other reasons. There are differences in the physiology of Muggle born and non-Muggle born witches and wizards. This does not imply that these differently descended members of the magical community are in any way inferior or superior. The human brain is as varied as the human individual housing it. We simply find some general patterns of difference which we find intriguing**. 

Hermione looked up. "When was this research done?" 

"About the time the Dark Lord started to rise in power," Severus said. "Hightower and Goyle were among the first and most outspoken critics of the resurgence of racism based on Muggle heritage. Their work is held to be the most definitive proof in the wizarding world that the Muggle-born are in no ways inferior." He paused for a moment, then continued. "However, this does not mean that the research is accepted by all. Science is not always appreciated or even acknowledged in the wizarding world." 

Hermione nodded. She had noticed that science as applied to magic was rarely alluded to in classes or in magic books. She began reading again, growing more and more fascinated. 

**Please regard Figure A (tap figure for more detailed picture or for change of view). Note how the brain waves flow as the magical activity of the subject is mapped. **

Hermione tapped the diagram with her wand, wincing slightly as a small pain flashed inside of her head and then subsided. It changed from a drawing on paper to a three dimensional figure floating above the table. Patterns of yellow energy pulsed and throbbed and then looped over and over again. 

**The main area of magical brain wave activity is in the cerebral cortex and most specifically in the parietal region as already discussed in Parchment 1a through d (Gleanings from Muggle Science: or How We Can Better Understand the Brain Using Magical Means and Muggle Knowledge). Also regard the way the brain waves move up and down the brain stem into the spinal column. This is of most importance. While the cerebral cortex energies vary from individual to individual regardless of heritage, the way the magical energy patterns travels is markedly different between individuals of Muggle and Non-Muggle parentage. Please tap figure B. **

Hermione did so, and now two brains were floating in front of her. She observed the glowing energy, enthralled that there existed in the wizarding world a level of science this precise and intriguing. 

**Watching both figures, one can observe the two main differences in physiology between the subjects. In the area of the brain stem, the magical energy forms two pathways flowing back and forth to the spinal column and the nervous system. In humans of Non-Muggle parentage, the two pathways stay closer together than those of Muggle Parentage. As the pathways reach the cerebral cortex, they flow into the brain in distinctly different areas. **

Hermione tapped both diagrams at the brain stem for a closer look, and then at the specific spots on the cerebral cortex which were highlighted. What she could not get over was how much of both brains were lighting up with activity. She remembered reading Muggle anatomy textbooks and seeing representations of PET scans. So much of the brain surface in those pictures seemed so empty and dark. Magical brains seemed to utilize almost the entire brain. 

"How did they scan these brains?" she asked suddenly. "In the Muggle world, machines are used. What kind of magic is needed to get these representations." 

Severus reached for a small piece of parchment in his robe pocket. "I will show you. Or at least I will attempt to show you. I have the incantation here. Sit as still as you can while you perform Wingardium Leviosa on this quill. That will enable us to compare your results to the figures before us." 

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She swished and flicked as she had done so easily for years. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she called. The quill jerked clumsily into the air and hovered a few inches above the table. The pain in her head was so intense she bit her lip, but she sat as still as she could. She felt Snape's wand swishing over her head in swift slicing motions as he muttered a stream of Latin she could not quite hear. 

Severus was fully concentrating on the spell he was invoking. He had not done an incantation like this before, but he was familiar enough with this research to feel fairly comfortable in trying. "All right," he said after a moment, "You can relax. Scribo!" He pointed his wand at a blank parchment. A bright blue light burst forth from the end of it. The light began skimming back and forth across the surface of the parchment, and as Hermione watched in amazement, a diagram began to form of her brain. Unlike the other diagrams, the yellow flows of energy were patchy and pale. There were gaps along the brain stem and into the cerebral cortex where the energy spanned across in thin strands or not all. The right side of her brain had almost no activity besides a few wispy strands straining to connect with the left side's energy patterns. Hermione looked forlornly at the sight of her damaged brain. She was rather surprised to see that Snape was looking quite happy. 

"Ah, this is excellent," he said, as if to himself. "This is better than we could have hoped for." 

"What?" asked Hermione, baffled. "What on earth do you mean?" 

"The poison you were given - the Leeching Elixir - was originally designed to completely destroy the specific neural pathways through which the magic of Muggle born wizards traveled. With those pathways gone, the magical energy would be leeched out of the system, having nowhere else to go. This version of the elixir has only attacked certain segments of your neural pathways." Severus paused, and then said in a disdainful tone, "This is a much less effective potion." 

"But I am still essentially brain damaged, am I not? Wingardium Leviosa was one of the first spells I learned when I started here. You saw how I could barely even levitate that wretched quill." 

"Oh yes, there has been damage," Severus nodded, preoccupied with writing notes on a parchment he had summoned. 

"Will it... I mean to say, can it be fixed?" Hermione felt the familiar feeling of despair as she watched her dismal brain activity repeat itself. 

Severus looked up and saw her pale, frightened face with such dark smudges under her eyes. He had seen the same quality of hopelessness staring back at him from the mirror many a time. He stepped closer towards her, not really sure why he was doing so until he found himself awkwardly patting her hand. He had seen others do this when trying to comfort someone in pain. Hermione didn't flinch away as she had wanted to at first. His hand was warm over her cold skin, and his look of- was it concern?- did make her feel somewhat better. 

"Miss Granger," he said softly, "because your neural pathways have not been obliterated as I had feared, I am confident that the Magic Magnifying potion I have brewed may be enough to allow your remaining magical energies to jump past the deadened areas. You may have to take this potion regularly for the rest of your life, but I think that, in time, you will be able to regain most of your powers." He reached into one of his robe's pocket. "Here is the Magnifying potion. It will be the most suitable." 

She took it from him and swallowed the liquid which left a vaguely slimy coating in her mouth but tasted like peppermint. "I didn't realize peppermint was used for conducting magical energy," she said. 

Severus looked a bit chagrined. "It's not," he said. "I thought you might like that flavor over the taste of Gore Slug pus." 

Hermione shuddered. "Thanks ever so." She was feeling a strange sensation vibrating throughout her body. It was like power was welling and throbbing inside of her. It felt disconcerting and pleasurable at the same time. Where she had been cold a moment ago, now she felt quite warm. 

Severus noticed the flush on her face. Magnifying potions were a controlled substance for a reason. 

"Try Wingardium Leviosa once more," he said. 

Hermione was feeling very good now, much better than she had since she had been poisoned. She felt like she could do anything. She pointed the wand at the quill. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she called with a strong voice that seemed amplified in her head. The quill shot up into the air with no hesitation. It then fell immediately when Hermione grabbed her head in renewed pain. 

"Oh, oh, _ow_," she moaned. "It hurts so badly. Why does it hurt so much?" 

Severus sighed. "I am not entirely sure. It may be due to the damage inflicted upon your brain, or it may another hidden element of the potion at work. I will have to do more tests. In the meantime, I have pain drops for you." He went to his desk, disabled a Locking charm on a top drawer, and brought her another vial. "This is quite potent, but it will not dull your mind. Both vials have a charm that will not allow you to take more of a dosage than prescribed, or more frequently than prescribed. I ask you not to try to break the charm. You may have a dose of these drops every six to eight hours. If the pain is not being controlled, go to the hospital wing or come to me." 

"Are these medicines that dangerous?" said Hermione. She was holding a vial in each hand and looking from one to the other worriedly. 

"Yes," Severus replied. "They most certainly can be if used improperly. I have designed them to help you though, and not hurt you." 

Hermione unscrewed the pain drops stopper and swallowed what felt like a very small amount of tasteless fluid. The pain in her head was smothered into a faint aching. "It worked," she said, closing her eyes in relief. 

"I think it is time to conclude for the evening," Severus said abruptly. He was glad he could have done this much for her at least. Her condition would never be pleasant, but thank Merlin, it could be controlled. As he stacked the medical texts and parchments and pushed them towards her, he said, "It's time for you to get back to your dormitory, and it's time for me to get some work done. I will see you on Thursday. I'll ask you to perform several charms and spells to assess where your magic levels are now." He paused, then said in an authoritative voice, "Have a rest before dinner." 

"Yes, sir," she replied, "Though I feel almost myself again now that the pain and the fatigue have lessened." She scooped up the stack of texts, and he began to usher her towards the door. 

"Take the Magnifying potion at breakfast and dinner. Take the pain drops-" 

"Every six to eight hours, yes Sir." Hermione stopped at the doorway and turned towards him. It was still rather scary knowing she would have to work so closely with him, but he knew what he was doing at least. He had made her feel better, and not one point from Gryffindor had been lost. That was encouraging. "Professor Snape?" she said. 

"Yes, Miss Granger," he said warily, hoping she wouldn't launch into questions that would delay him further. 

"Thank you, sir," she said shyly, and then she left rather hastily. Severus watched her go for a moment and then closed the door to the classroom. He couldn't recall when anyone had told him thank you in such a sweet and innocent way, or even if such a thing had ever happened. He wasn't quite sure he deserved it. 


	5. Regaining Chapter 5: Reaction

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 7: Reaction **

_Reaction - 5. in medicine, an action induced by resistance to another action_

Hermione smiled all the way back to Gryffindor tower, clutching the borrowed texts tightly. 

"Now then, that's a smile," said the Fat Lady as Hermione approached the portrait. "Good to see it again, dear." 

"Why, thank you. Turkish Delight." The portrait swung open, and Hermione walked up the stairs to the common room. Harry and Ron were sitting by the fire, obviously watching for her. Their faces looked so serious that she began laughing. 

"How was it?" asked Ron. Then he scowled. "And why are you laughing?" 

"It was fine," she said, sitting in a chair beside Harry and putting her books down on the end table. "I mean, it wasn't fun, but it wasn't horrid either." 

"So Snape was... nice to you?" asked Harry, a bit perplexed. 

"Well, no, not nice, exactly," she said thoughtfully. "Informative. Helpful. He got me books from St. Mungo's to borrow." 

"Aha, that's the secret password to Hermione's heart - books," leered Ron. 

Hermione smacked Ron on the arm playfully. "Oh really, Ron, grow up." 

"So what did you find out, Hermione?" said Harry, taking one of her books and leafing through it. "Some good things?" 

"Well, let's just say there is some hope," said Hermione, "And believe it or not, Professor Snape does seem to know a lot about... " She dropped her voice to a whisper. "About what happened to me. I'll tell you about it on the way to dinner. I'm starving. Let me go put these books in my room." 

Hermione was chattering away, a bit uncharacteristically, by the time they got to the Great Hall. "And the Magnifying potion with the pain drops are really working - I tried a couple of spells up in my room. No pain at all." 

"That's great, Hermione," said Harry, as they sat down to dinner. Hermione was now talking very quickly about her plans to get caught up in her classes, smiling as she filled her plate full of food. Harry looked at Ron quizzically, and Ron shrugged. Then she was distracted for a moment by Draco Malfoy. He walked by the end of the table and looked astonished to see her in such high spirits. She stuck out her tongue at him. "Slimy git," she said, a bit too loudly. "He knows something about my poisoning. I'd wager his dear old Dad was right in on it." Draco hurried to the Slytherin table, color rising to his cheeks and a furious exression on his face. 

"Hermione?" said Ron, "Are you feeling quite all right?" 

"I'm feeling great," she replied with a grin. 

--------------------------------------------------------------- 

When they had returned to Gryffindor tower, Hermione had excused herself. She had wanted to start reading her new books straight-away. Harry and Ron were rather relieved. While they were happy to see their friend in such a good spirits, she was acting peculiarly. 

"Maybe she just needs some rest," Harry had whispered. 

"She needs something," muttered Ron. "What does the Magnifying potion magnify? Her ability to talk nonstop?" 

As a matter of fact, Hermione was feeling strangely. She felt as if her mind had been awakened from hibernation. Thoughts were whizzing through her head, and she felt an incredible energy coursing through her. It felt exhilarating. She was very glad that as a Prefect she had been able to get a private room this year. However, she didn't realize how rapidly the night was advancing while she was pacing restlessly around her room. She would pick up one book and attempt to read a page, but then she would be distracted and try to start reading on another. She tried to go to sleep after awhile, but she would no sooner lie down when she would think she needed to check on some noise or see what was making strange shadows in the corner. Crookshanks was watching her with great annoyance as she was disrupting his prime resting time. Eventually he tried climbing on her stomach when she laid down in the attempts to keep her on the bed. After the fourth time she dislodged him with her movements of getting in and out of bed, he curled up in a disgruntled heap on her study chair and did his very best to ignore her. It wasn't until the sky was lightening in the east that Hermione finally dropped off into a fitful sleep. 

She awoke shortly after to the sound of Crookshanks yowling at her. She sat up with a start, feeling lightheaded and a bit queasy. She looked at the clock on her bedside table. "Hecate's Hounds! It's fifteen past nine already!" she gasped. 

She put her hands to her head. What on earth had happened to her last night? It was all a blur of constant motion and unusual impulses. 'I must've had some kind of reaction to the potions,' she inwardly groaned, laying back on her pillows. 'Maybe just five more minutes... Herbology's not till ten_."_ Crookshanks meowed loudly again. "All right, all right, I'm getting up," she said irritably. Her head was pounding a little, but she thought it might be due to the lack of sleep. She figured it would be a good idea to find out why she had been up all night before she took another dose of either of the potions. She flung her legs over the side if the bed, pushing her feet into her slippers. Every muscle in her body was pleading for just a little more sleep. She would need to go see Madame Pomfrey before she went to the greenhouse, and somehow she would need to get some toast or something to settle her stomach. Breakfast was no longer being served, so she would have to sneak into the kitchens. Oh bother, that would make her much too late. Then it dawned on her that if she stopped by Professor Snape's classroom, she would save time. She grimaced. It was one thing to meet with Snape at an appointed time, quite another to barge in unannounced. However Madame Pomfrey would no doubt need to consult with him anyway. She was craving being back on a normal schedule too much to miss her class today. She sprang from the bed decisively and hurriedly threw on her robes, tossing the two potion vials into her pockets. She brushed her hair down as best she could and ran to the lavatory. 

She decided she would head to Snape's classroom first and then try to grab a bite to eat from the kitchens. She was exhausted, but if she could just stay awake for a three hours or so, she could sleep the afternoon away. When she got to the door of the dungeon classroom, she was feeling a decidedly unpleasant mixture of adrenaline and sleep deprivation. Hermione peeked into the classroom. It was full of course, and she ducked her head back before anyone saw her. This class should end at 9:30 - she only had a few minutes to wait. She paced up and down the hall a bit, listening to the murmuring of Snape's quiet but commanding lecture. It sounded like third year material from what she could catch. Then she saw purple smoke billowing out the doorway, and the quiet murmuring became an all too familiar snarling. She watched as pale Hufflepuffs and smug Ravenclaws filed out the doorway on their way to their next classes, most looking pretty relieved to be getting away. She tentatively walked through the classroom door. 

"You will both report for detention this afternoon, Mr. Adams and Miss Kent," snapped Snape, waving his wand over the melted mass of cauldrons and table as two Hufflepuff third years trembled before him. "This mess was enitrely avoidable. Perhaps next time you will keep your eyes on your cauldrons instead of on each other" 

"Yes sir," they replied as one. 

"Now go before I decide to take more points from your House," he said. They scurried out of the room. 

Hermione was not sure what to do. She needed to get her medicines straightened out, but if she had learned only one thing in her six years at Hogwarts, it was never to bother Professor Severus Snape when he was already angry. 

"Ridiculous children," Snape was scowling, "Why must I always be saddled with the absolute dregs of the wizarding world?" His wand was hissing through the air, and the table and cauldrons were being set right meticulously. 

'Well,' thought Hermione, 'I am on time schedule here. There's nothing for it' 

"Ahem," she coughed as unobtrusively as possible from the doorway. 

Snape whirled around. "What now?" he demanded ferociously. 

Hermione startled and backed up a step. "Um... I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I... erm.. I think I have a bit of a problem." 

Severus looked at Hermione, baffled. "What are you doing here?" 

"I think I might have had a funny reaction to one of the potions, sir, and I wanted to check with you before I went to class because I have Herbology in thirty minutes, and I really wanted to go, but if I went to the Hospital Wing I wouldn't have time to get breakfast because... " 

Severus was still trying to comprehend the first of her rushed words when he said, "Stop your babbling, Miss Granger. I can't understand one word you're saying." 

Hermione took a deep breath. "I think I had a funny reaction to the potions." She told him about the constant motion and lack of concentration or sleep of the previous night. He was listening, at least, even if his scowl did get more pronounced with every word she said. 

When she finished, he said curtly, "You had a reaction to the Magnifying potion. Reactions are not uncommon; this is a very strong potion. It will obviously need to be modified. Do you have the vial?" She handed it to him. "Now I would like for you to go back to your dormitory and get back to bed. You have no business overtaxing yourself. You can come by later this afternoon and get the new potion." 

Hermione stood, looking at him with her mouth agape. "No. I'm going to class. I need to get caught up." 

Fury flashed in his eyes - how dare she defy his judgment. "Miss Granger, either you go back to your dormitory, or I will personally escort you to the Hospital Wing." 

"But sir- " she began. 

"Miss Granger, do you really think you are up to attending any class at this moment?" He sarcastically looked her up and down, his gaze lingering at her feet. She looked down. Oh dear Circe, she was still wearing her fuzzy pink slippers. In her rush, she had forgotten to put on her shoes. 

"Sir," she said as calmly as she could while her cheeks started to redden, "I know I had a rough night, but if I can just get through this one class, I can sleep all the rest of the day. Herbology is an easy class for me, and if I feel too fatigued I promise I'll go back to the dormitory. It's really important to me that I get back on my normal schedule. Please don't make me miss my first class back." Snape still looked less than swayed by her pleadings, so she added, "Besides Sir, if I don't show up for Herbology, Harry and Ron will be frantic. They might come looking for me and come by your classroom. Unless you would like to go tell them where I am... " 

Severus observed with annoyance as this impudent child tried to manipulate the situation. If she worked herself into a state, it would serve her right. "Miss Granger, your stubbornness is quite vexing. If attending your class is more important than protecting your fragile health, then be my guest." He swept past her towards his work area, dismissing her. 

"My fragile health?" Hermione repeated indignantly, "Please, Sir, I'm not some maiden from a Victorian morality tale." 

"Spare me your dramatics, Miss Granger," Severus replied, not looking up from the parchment essays he was stacking. "You'll need to move quickly if you plan on further exploiting the house elves by demanding food outside of dining hours. You have less than twenty minutes to get to Herbology." 

She shot him a furious look, turned on her fuzzy pink slippers, and stomped out the door. Severus looked after her with a wisp of a smile. That had been rather amusing. He felt better about letting her go. If she had the energy to spar with him like that, she had the energy to get through one class. 


	6. Regaining Chapter 6: Revelation

**Regaining by Vivien **

**Chapter 8: Revelation**

_Revelation - 2. something disclosed; esp. a striking disclosure_

Author's Notes: I wanted to thank Damiana of Marrach fame specifically for her use of definitions as chapter titles. I am so bloody awful at making chapter titles, I was at a loss till I read Marrach and saw how well it worked. I went from having zero titles to some that seem to fit pretty well. So thanks! 

Thanks to all the people giving me input at WIKTT - your thoughts have been very helpful. Thanks still to my regular beta, Jen. 

I also wanted to mention that a lot of the fear and angst reflected in Hermione are very similar to what I went through several years ago when diagnosed with adult onset asthma. It may not sound like a big deal to have to take medicine for the rest of your life, but when you are faced with taking medicines that make you feel so not like yourself, it is a big deal. The emotions and the illness made for a not very pleasant me - self pity, complaining, despair, etc. I am much better now though, and Hermione will get better, too. SO just a little bit of Mary Sue-ing there ;) 

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Hermione had enjoyed Herbology even though she was quite tired and miffed from her embarrassing encounter with Professor Snape. She hadn't quite been able to transfigure her slippers into shoes, but after a dose of pain drops, she had managed to make them brown and less fuzzy by the time she got to class. No one else had noticed her footwear at any rate. After class she had eaten an early lunch and then napped the afternoon away. She woke up feeling a bit fuzzy but not in pain. She had not looked forward to picking up her reformulated potion, and she was pleased to discover she had been spared that task. Snape must have sent the new vial to her via one of the house elves because it had been on her desk when she awoke. She was grateful he had sent it to her, even as she wondered why he had done such a considerate thing. It didn't seem to fit with his behavior that morning, or well, any time actually. A bit leery of taking the Magnifying potion again, Hermione swallowed down the dosage. This time she felt the same strange sensation of tingling power surge through her, but it did not overwhelm her. Dinner was uneventful and slightly less talkative, much to Harry and Ron's relief. Hermione's spirit felt lifted in a non-chemically enhanced way. That night she again excused herself to study the medical texts. She began reading avidly, this time able to concentrate and take notes just as she had hoped. After a few hours, some very interesting revelations, and some serious concerns raised, she was ready for bed. She worried she might not be able to sleep, as the information was still swirling in her head, but she dropped right off. Crookshanks settled down beside her, curling up against the small of her back. He was most relieved that his person was staying put. 

Wednesday and Thursday were the first days since the poisoning that Hermione felt close to her normal self. Her classes went much better than they had the first days back, in no small part because Hermione was in a much better mood mentally and physically. She was still not excited to be going down to the Potions classroom at 4:00 on Thursday, but this time she felt she could handle it at least. Plus she now had questions she wanted answered. 

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On Thursday at lunch time, Severus was drinking tea and picking at a plate of food in the empty Staff Room. He purposefully came here at lunch because most of the other teachers either had lunch in their rooms or in the Great Hall. He liked a change of scenery during the day once in awhile, and this was as good a place as any to think. Today he was primarily reflecting on the Leeching Elixir and how he could make Hermione's situation better. He had hoped the new potion would work, and since he had not been called to the hospital wing or been confronted by a raving Gryffindor yet, he assumed it had. Unless she had had been too stubborn to get help for another reaction, that is. This was a possibility, considering that Hermione Granger was not turning out to be a meek patient waiting for advice and comfort as he had dreaded. He chuckled softly again at the image of her standing in the doorway the previous morning with that indignant expression and those hideous slippers. That was something he was not likely to ever forget. He had been disappointed that the first Magnifying potion had failed - the new version would be much less powerful. First thing this afternoon's session he would spell a brain scan to see how well the new formula was working. Today would also likely be the day of many questions. Hermione would have had time to go over some of the texts and would no doubt be ready for some answers. He just hoped he would be ready for all of her questions. 

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Hermione felt the cold dampness of the dungeons cling to her when she stepped down the first steps. Outside it was snowing heavily, and the chill in the air was even pervading the warmer areas of the castle. She shivered even though she was wearing a thick sweater under her robes. Maybe she could talk Snape into lighting a fire. It was going to be freezing in his classroom today. She wasn't as hesitant as she had been the previous day, but she was still nervous about being alone with the most difficult teacher at Hogwarts. Professor Snape had been kind to her in his own way, she supposed. Her medicines were working, and the books he had provided were of great assistance in understanding her condition more. Still, there was a dread inside her, quieter perhaps than the first day, but there nonetheless. This was still an exercise in the great unknown. 

She hesitated for a brief moment in the doorway. The classroom was darker than usual because the light from the windows was muted by the wintry clouds. She dimly saw Professor Snape working at his desk across the room. 

"Sir," she said, "I am here as scheduled." She walked into the classroom and stopped at the front student table. She stood for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence. 

Snape was in the middle of marking a 2nd year essay with violent quill strokes of red. "A moment please, Miss Granger," he said dismissively. 

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, not realizing how loudly the sound echoed across the room. 'How irritating,' she thought. 'And I made sure to be here precisely on time.' 

After a moment, Severus put aside the essay and rose to his feet. "Very well, shall we get to work?" he said evenly, while walking around his desk to stand in front of it, facing her with the student table in between them. While he had been finishing marking the essay, he had actually been observing her from the corner of his eye. Her color looked good, and the smudges under her eyes were less noticeable. The annoyed look growing more pronounced on her face as he studied her was an extra added delight. He appreciated the fire snapping in her eyes even as it unsettled him.. 

"Professor Snape, I have some issues I wish to discuss with you before we begin," Hermione said, "I was able to do some research, and I'm rather concerned about some of the things I learned." 

Severus leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms across his chest. 'And so it begins,' he thought. 

"Please proceed, Miss Granger. What do you wish to discuss?" He tried very hard to keep his tone of voice neutral. 

Hermione took a deep breath and pulled from her pocket a parchment scroll filled with notes written in her neat hand. "Firstly, I am very concerned about the nature of the Magnifying potion you are giving me. I did not realize that Magic Magnifying potions were controlled substances. I do not like the fact that I was given an opiate based substance that has been shown to be addictive." 

Anger at his methods being questioned by a mere student welled up inside of Severus. He took a moment before he spoke again in order to gain better control if his tongue. "I assume you have read the rather sensationalistic chapter on Controlled Palliatives and Enhancers in the Magical Brain Injuries text?" Hermione nodded, her lips pursed together in a way that reminded him too much of Minerva McGonagall. "Miss Granger, I assure you that the potion I have made for you is safe. This potion is opiate based, but the opiate is also magically bound with periwinkle essence, which negates the addictive qualities. The Headmaster and I have also received official sanction from the Ministry to brew the potion and administer it. I can show you the certificate, if you wish." 

"Then this is not the same as the outlawed potion?" asked Hermione, still skeptical. 

"The illegal Magic Magnifying potion is quite different from the one I am brewing for you," he replied. "This is not some remedy picked up in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley. For one thing, the periwinkle essence is not used in the potion obtained illicitly. If you are still concerned, I have a book from my personal library that contrasts the nature of illegal potions and their legal counterparts." 

"I would very much like to borrow it. Secondly, and this still regards the potions I am taking, I am very disconcerted at the thought of taking daily medications for the rest of my life," she continued, her voice shaking a bit under his stare, "What kind of research has been done on the effects of pain drops on a person using them for an extended period of time?" 

"Once again, Miss Granger, I am not making up these potions for you with disregard for your welfare," Severus replied through clenched teeth. "I will be... happy to send for abstracts from St. Mungo's on your pain drops if you wish." 

"I would be most grateful for any more information," said Hermione, her voice taking on a complaining tone. "You must understand that this is a very frightening situation for me in many ways. My experience with sickness has been limited, and the idea of having my body constantly regulated by potions for the rest of my life is not a very pleasant one. I mean to say, what if you had at sixteen faced the prospect of taking medications for the rest of your life? It is scary, knowing my hopes for the future are dashed, and if the truth were out, I would be looked at as even more of a freak than I already am." 

Severus raised one eyebrow and said wryly, "How do you know I did not face a similar situation? By the way, self pity does not become you, Miss Granger, and it achieves nothing." 

Hermione looked up, shocked. "Self pity... " she said incredulously, "I am merely concerned about my well-being." 

"As am I, Miss Granger," said Severus. He had meant to say something scathing, but what he had said came out more sincerely than he expected. He sighed. "Now what of your other questions? Please continue. Keep in mind that I would like to start your magical assessments sometime in the near future." 

Hermione looked down again at her notes. She had been rehearsing this last question in her head all day. She wasn't sure if she really wanted the answer, but she needed to know. "I wanted to know one more thing, sir. Erm... in the reading I have done so far, I have found no reference to any kind of potion used in connection with the Dark Arts that matches what I was given." She paused. This was much harder than she had thought it would be now that she was here, standing in Snape's glowering presence. "How do you know so much about the Leeching Elixir? Both you and the Headmaster emphasized that you knew more about this than anyone else. It would seem that you are the only one who knows about it." She looked up at him finally. Even in the dim light she could see his face blotching with sickly color. "Why would that be?" she whispered. 

Severus was so taken aback that he could only stare at her. Acid in his stomach surged in a mighty wave, and he felt like he might be sick. This was the question he had been dreading the most, but he had had no idea she would have asked it so soon. He should have expected it. He should have realized that her intellectual curiosity and sharp mind would make this connection. He should have been ready to answer her. He wasn't. 

When he didn't respond, Hermione smoothed her parchment nervously. She knew now what his answer would be, but she was not ready to hear it after all. To give them both an out, she said, "Umm.. I mean... I suppose you might have heard something about it? You know, in your work as a sp... er... in your alliances with certain... people?" 

Severus was frozen in his tracks. What did this child not know? He turned away from her finally. He knew he would have to say something. He knew deep down that a lie would not do. Severus did not like to lie and never had, even though he had found that his life had become a series of ever growing falsehoods. He slowly walked back to his desk chair, sitting down heavily. He could see her watching him closely, the look on her face fluctuating between fear and hope for the best. He did not look up as he began to speak, his hands clasped tightly in front of him to keep them from writhing. 

"Miss Granger, you ask an astute question, and one that can not be easily answered. However, you deserve to know the truth if we are to continue working together. The Leeching Elixir was an idea first broached by Voldemort many years ago. He wished for his most talented Potion Brewer to develop some way of purging the unworthy from the wizarding world. I... I was the one he charged with this. I came up with the theoretical design for the Elixir shortly before I defected from the service of the Dark Lord. I was working on the potion in secret. I thought that if I destroyed all of my notes, then that would be what was needed to wipe out any trace of what I had realized would be a truly horrific weapon to be unleashed upon the world. Obviously Voldemort has made the potion a priority once more. I don't know if someone had copies of my research that I didn't know about, or whether it was magically revealed, but this... this poison was based on my first design." 

Hermione was listening carefully to what he was saying. She had suspected this, but hearing it in actual words was more than she could stand. As blood pounded in her ears and her face grew hotter and hotter, his horrid words were echoing through her mind. This awful person, this teacher who had done nothing to make her or her friends feel comfortable in class for six years, this... this monster was the one who had caused her all the pain, all the fear, all the worries for her future. It felt so good to have someone to blame for it all. The fury inside her was rising to a level she had never felt before. "How bloody fitting," she hissed, "So this is _your_ fault. _You_ did this to me. Are you actually on our side or have you been playing double agent all this time?" 

Severus looked up suddenly, his eyes flashing. "No, I did not do this to you. My allegiances are well known to the person who matters the most in this war. How dare you suggest that I would... " He found himself rising from his chair to better confront her. His voice was rising as well. "Yes, my misguided theories were used against both you and myself and everyone in our world, but I did _not_ do this to you. Believe you me, Miss Granger, if I set my mind to brewing a potion to destroy the magic of unsuspecting Muggle-borns, you would be standing here bereft of any magic at all and all the hours spent with any Healer or Potion Master in our world would be of _no _avail." 

She had never seen Snape look this furious, and she had been on the receiving end of his rage many a time. This time his anger was fully matched by her own. How dare the bastard loom over her trying to defend his actions? She shouted in response, "I don't care what your intentions were. _You_ made up this potion. It _is_ your fault. My life has been altered irrevocably, and you stand there giving excuses and threatening me further. Bloody hell, I'm being terrorized for a cure by the very same person who caused the malady. How can you be so horrible and still live with yourself?" 

"With much practice, my dear child," Severus replied in a deadly smooth voice, his face twisted in pain. 

"Dumbledore's orders or no, I'm not staying here one more moment," Hermione said, grabbing her notes. She glared at him, her chest heaving up and down with the rush of her feelings. "I don't want your help," she spat and began walking very quickly to the door. She was not cold in the least anymore. 

Severus was not going to let her leave so easily. He rushed to intercept her, standing in her path right before she reached the middle of the classroom. 

"Let me by," Hermione commanded. 

"Not until I am finished," he growled, his voice rough with emotion. "I will admit, I am the villain in this. It was my disastrous mistake to throw in with the Dark Lord in the first place. A mistake that I have tried to atone for every waking hour since I opened my eyes and threw myself on Albus Dumbledore's mercy. What was done to you was an evil thing. Do you think I enjoyed seeing this happen to you? Watching and waiting three days for you to wake up, dreading what I feared you would wake up to? I _am_ the only one with the knowledge to help you, Merlin help us both. You have a challenging choice ahead of you. You can either quit yourself of my despicable presence for good and possibly never regain your powers, or you can let me help you, distressing as the thought may be. What will your decision be?" 

A moment passed as their eyes locked on each other, his pleading yet proud, and hers irate and bewildered. Hermione did not - could not - respond to his question. This was too much on top of everything else. She brushed by him and then ran from the classroom. Severus could hear her angry sobs begin as she hurried off down the corridor. He stood statue-like for several minutes, and then he raised his hands to cover his eyes. How could he ever make amends for this? He stumbled through the almost full darkness of the classroom, feeling his way to his office. He sank down into the nearest chair and stared into the quiet blackness for quite some time. 


	7. Regaining Chapter 7: Refer

**Regaining by Vivien B. **

**Chapter 9: Refer**

_Refer - 4. to direct (a person) to someone or something for aid, information, etc. _

Hermione fled the dungeons. Tears were blurring her eyes to that extent that she tripped more than once over trick stairs and other obstacles. She didn't know why she had insisted on hearing the harsh truth she had suspected. But she did know why, really; she was too curious by half. She wanted to know because she needed to know. She had also wanted someone to blame and revile. That the someone turned out to be the one person who could effectively help her.. well, that was just her dumb luck. She wiped her face once she got to the main castle floor. She didn't want anyone to see her in this state, except for Dumbledore whom she wanted to speak with in a bad way. With the revelation of Snape's involvement in her poisoning - minimal though it was, she knew in her logical brain - she needed to decide how she could proceed with her treatment, or class for that matter. The thought of being near him again made her insides crawl with loathing and pity and rage and a jumble of other emotions she could hardly name, let alone understand. 

As a Prefect she had been given the password for the Headmaster's office in case of emergency. Since she had been ill, Lavender Brown had been acting as Prefect in her place. She hoped the password hadn't changed in the meantime. Hermione approached the stone gargoyle marking the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Chocolate meringue," she said, and the gargoyle moved aside. She stepped onto the spiral staircase and was moved upwards to the Headmaster's office. When she opened the door, she found him waiting behind his desk. Two mugs of hot chocolate were steaming on a tray on the desk. 

"Do come in, Miss Granger," he said, gesturing for her to sit down. "Have some hot chocolate. I have been expecting you." 

Hermione took a mug off the tray and sat down in one of the armchairs beside the roaring fire. She sat for a moment looking down at her hands, willing the tears to stop. Dumbledore waited patiently. When she looked as if she had gained control of herself enough to speak, Dumbledore asked gently, "What would you like to talk about, Hermione?" 

Hermione's words and tears spilled forth equally then as she described the conversation that had taken place. She told him also of her anger, her fears, her wish to feel normal again, and more things she had not planned on mentioning at all. At some point Fawkes had flown over to sit on her shoulder. With the rush of unburdening herself, she had not noticed him until she felt a peaceful warmth start to penetrate her shaking body. She reached up to stroke his feathers and finally took a deep, calming breath. 

"Sir, I… I am at a loss," she said, "I want to hate someone. I want to make someone pay for what they did to me. Since You Know Who is not accessible, I guess it's easier to blame Professor Snape. I mean… I know that he designed the potion, but when he told me about destroying it… He looked so bitter and sad, that I found myself feeling sorry for him, too. And that didn't sit well at all. I'm in such a muddle, Sir. I can't bear the thought of being near Professor Snape because I can't bear feeling so jumbled. But what I'm really having trouble reconciling is… Sir, are you certain that Professor Snape had no involvement with the poison that was given to me other than doing the first research? I mean, we've pretty much figured out he's a spy for you, but are you sure he had nothing to do with this?" The anger and doubt in her eyes flared again as she looked up into Dumbledore's wise face. 

"I am absolutely certain." He had replied with no hesitation. "I have other contacts besides Professor Snape who keep me informed of many things. While I don't know who has been working on the Elixir or who slipped it in your drink yet, I know that it was not Severus Snape. I have known Professor Snape longer than you have been alive, Hermione. As you trust me, you can trust him." 

"It's just that… " she hesitated. "He's never been like my other teachers. He is so... unpleasant to me, in class and out Then we had our first meeting, and he was… helpful. Nicer than he had ever been to me. But even then, I had a feeling he was entangled in this more than merely as a knowledgeable teacher. I wanted to know the truth, but now I think it would be easier to have never known." 

"That is often the pitfall of those who desire knowledge," Dumbledore said, "Often we learn things we feel we can not bear to know, but we learn to bear them nonetheless. It would be easy, and even understandable, for you to vilify Professor Snape. However, as I have said many times, sometimes the easiest choice isn't the right choice to make." 

Hermione sat thoughtfully, sipping her drink. She knew Dumbledore was right, but it was still very hard for her to think clearly in this matter. "Sir, I don't know if I can... if I want to work with Professor Snape at all. Isn't there anyone else who could help me? Please?" 

"My dear child," Dumbledore said gently. "You have had more trauma and pain to face than anyone should. You are grieving, and anger is part of that process. I will not force you to do anything that you don't want to, but I'm going to encourage you to continue what you have begun. Professor Snape has been affected by your poisoning more than you can imagine. He has felt a great deal of despair knowing that ideas from his past have been used to do such damage to you. He's always thought a great deal of you even though he would never let you know. That is simply not his way. Making you better would be a way for him to further redeem himself from his previous mistakes. But he would be consulted on a regular basis no matter who helped you, so he would still be part of your cure. I still think he is the best person to work directly with you, even if things are complicated by tonight's events." 

"I will think about it," Hermione said. "I. .I can't make a decision now." 

"Understandable, my dear. It is a very hard choice to make. I will respect your decision and help you in any way I can." 

"I appreciate that, Sir," Hermione said. "This is all so unfair." Her breath hitched, and she tried desperately not to start crying again. 

"Hermione, I wish I could tell you that life would always be fair, but that is not how it is. Life can be what you make of it, though, and those who are strong can turn that into a blessing. You are one of the strongest people I have known, child, so do not despair yet," said Dumbledore. He waited a moment and then walked over to stand beside her chair. "Now, I believe it is time for dinner. Would you accompany me to the Great Hall?" 

"I'm not sure I can eat anything," Hermione replied, "My stomach feels like it's tied in knots. I definitely don't want to talk to anyone." 

Dumbledore pulled a an ornate key from one of his pockets. "I don't wish for you to miss a meal, but I have had an idea. This key opens a special room near the library. It is an excellent place for thinking when decisions lay heavy on the mind. If you would like to borrow the room, you may." Hermione nodded her head, and Dumbledore placed the key in her outstretched palm. "I trust you know how to reach the kitchens after hours?" he asked with a wink. 

Hermione smiled, "Yes, and I promise I'll try to eat something later. Thank you for the key. Where in the library corridor is the room?" 

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Finding the room is part of its charm. Enjoy your search. I wish you good thoughts. Shall we?" He held out an arm, and she took it. Together they walked out the door and down to the main hall. When Hermione left for the library corridor, Dumbledore watched her go. He wished he could take some of the hurt away from her. However one of the hardest lessons he had learned in his long life was that pain must be worked through. It was a harsh teacher, but one of the best. 

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Hermione had gone up and down the library corridor a few times when she finally found the door that fit the key. 'I know I passed this spot at least twice, and there was no door before,' thought Hermione, fitting the key to the lock. She opened the door and stepped into the room. As she took in what was before her, her eyes opened wide and a small "oh" escaped her surprised lips. She was in a room made entirely of windows and filled with inviting chairs and sofas, hanging plants, and shelves of books. The wall beside the door was a filled with a replica of a mountain and a running water fall. The trickling of the water filled the room with the most delightful sound. The air contained a tinge of lavender, and as she breathed it in, she felt her mind relax and clear somewhat. She walked around the room, stopping by one of the windows to look up at the snow falling softly around the castle. The room was very warm, but there was no fireplace. 

Hermione stopped by a shelf of books. Golden numbers were engraved on the spines of each one - 1961, 1952, and so on. Thinking they might be school annuals, she located the latest of the books. It was for last year - 1996. She settled down on a sofa, tucking her feet under her. She knew she was supposed to be here thinking, but she had to satisfy her curiosity first. The book turned out to be a photo album. It had pictures of staff events at the first. The first page was captioned "Welcome Back to the New School Year" and had pictures of Hogwarts teachers smiling and laughing at a picnic. Professor Flitwick was waving from one of the pictures wearing tropical patterned robes and sporting a deep suntan. Professor McGonagall looked more relaxed than Hermione ever had seen her as she waved from a deck chair. A group picture showed the whole staff holding on to each others hands or clasping shoulders, waving and smiling. All that was but Professor Snape, who was at the very outskirts of the group, watching the other teachers with a longing look, but not quite joining in. Hermione turned the page to find pictures of the Sorting Ceremony for that year. She frowned. 'I have never seen cameras in the Great Hall before,' she thought. 'Where did these pictures come from?' 

She kept leafing through the album, finding more pictures of classroom settings and school events. One very fine picture was of Harry, beaming and raising the Golden Snitch from the first Quidditch match of that year. Then she came upon a few more pages of staff pictures. These pages were captioned "Celebration in Honor of Severus Snape's First Published Work in _Ars Alchemica_". The album pages between the pictures were filled with the teacher's signed congratulatory messages. In the pictures Professor Snape looked a bit chagrined to be the center of so much attention, but he also looked… happy. That was definitely a smile on his face (which kept looking down in embarrassment) in one picture where Dumbledore was holding up the parchment with his article and shaking his hand. Hermione studied the picture closely for a few minutes. She was relaxing now and able to focus a bit better. 

As she continued flipping through pages, marveling at the candid images of her friends and herself in moments of happiness and success, she found the most surprising picture yet. It was a picture from Potions class. She remembered that day very well, because Professor Snape had given the class an impossibly difficult assignment. They had only just begun to learn Healing potions, and he had saddled them with making an advanced Injury Repellent. No one had really had a clue as to how to attempt it, but Hermione had known straight-away. The picture showed herself holding up a vial of clear, glowing liquid. She was smiling triumphantly because she knew she had made it correctly. What was most astonishing was Professor Snape. He was standing behind her, watching her with what could only be pride. She recalled he had whisked by her that day and held up the vial to show the rest of the class, making some scathing remark that she had ignored. This image was not that of a mocking, snide teacher. She put the album down on the sofa beside her and went to look for other albums. She was looking for earlier ones which maybe would have more revealing moments in time. She was very interested in gaining better insight to this complicated person who had become entwined in her life. 

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Severus had not been at dinner. Dumbledore had not really expected that he would be. He had sent a note to Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, letting them know that Hermione was safe but indisposed. He had watched them growing more and more agitated when she had not come to dinner, and he wanted them to be at ease. As the Headmaster left the Great Hall on his way to the dungeons, he had the passing thought that he was going to be quite the busybody this evening. 'Ah well,' he thought, 'Better a busybody than a lay about.' Something had to be done with Severus and Hermione. The girl was the stronger of the two at this point. She would not be paralyzed with guilt. Severus would need whatever help Dumbledore could give him. 'Old man, you knew when you started this that Severus lacked in people skills,' Dumbledore chided himself. 'He's a good man deep down. He simply needs firm encouragement to get him moving.' 

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Severus hadn't moved from his office. He had finally come to his senses enough to Summon his wand and lock the classroom door. Other than that he had remained motionless, staring into the blackness. The thoughts that wrenched his mind were much blacker than the inside of the room. He should have been gentler with the girl, he should have known about the new plans for the Leeching Elixir, he should have stayed away from the Dark Lord's followers all those years ago. 'I wear black on the outside because that's how I feel inside,' he randomly thought. He wanted to make amends, but he doubted he would be able to now. Hermione would not want to be in the same room with him, and he didn't blame her in the least. Sometimes he wished he could be out of the room when he was in it. He remembered a research project he had done for Muggle Studies when he had been a student. He was studying some of the more unusual religious groups of medieval Muggle society. He had come across a sect called the Flagellants who whipped themselves in attempts to rid their bodies of sin. In the years since, he had often thought he should try it and see if it would work. He doubted that any pain he could inflict physically could ever surpass the pain he caused himself mentally, but maybe it was worth a try. "Oh gods," he moaned. "Must I always ruin everything I touch?" 

"Sitting in the dark again, eh, Severus," said a voice from the doorway. "It's not good for uplifting the spirit, you know." 

Startled, Severus looked up to see Dumbledore entering the office. "Lumos!" Dumbledore commanded, and the light globes in the room brightened. Severus blinked like a bat in the noon day sun. "Now really, Severus, what is to be gained by brooding in the dark?" 

"I want to be alone, Headmaster," Severus grumbled. "Please respect my wishes." 

"You have been alone for much too long," Dumbledore replied gravely. "Shrinking into yourself will do nothing to help Hermione Granger. It will do nothing for you either but make you less effective in the war we need to fight. Severus, you have a responsibility to the girl and to yourself. This is a chance for you to remedy an old evil." 

"I can't bloody well do anything if Miss Granger refuses to be in my presence," Severus snapped. "After tonight.... I wasn't ready for her to ask me about the history of the Elixir. I should have been, but I was most certainly not. I didn't want to tell another lie, either. Now I have made an even worse mess of things than I thought possible." 

Dumbledore conjured a chair and sat down beside the dejected Potions Master. "Miss Granger has been to see me," he said softly. "She is very upset, but I think she will be all right, in time. She spoke to me of the disturbing feelings she has as a result of the drastic change in her life. The grief and the anger she expressed reminded me of another troubled soul I counseled once, a long time ago. She will need time to sort through these feelings, and then she will need your help." 

Severus did not respond for several minutes. "I want to help her. I could not stand for her to lose the life she deserves in our world." He sighed and slowly looked into the older man's eyes. "How do I do it? How do I apologize for what I have done?" 

"Well, Severus, perhaps you simply open your mouth and apologize. No snide tone, no looming, no point taking. Talk to her as someone who cares, since you so obviously do. Hermione mentioned that the first session went well. She said you were very helpful to her." 

"I can barely speak to you about emotional matters, Headmaster, much less a student," replied Severus discouragingly "The child hates me, as she well should." 

"Very well, Severus," said Dumbledore, a bit exasperated. "If I can't talk you out of you self-loathing than I shall give you an order." He took out another ornate key from his pocket. "Go now. That is your penance." 

Severus looked at the key with horror. "Oh please, Sir, no," he pleaded. "I never do well in the Tranquillity Parlor." 

Dumbledore pushed the key into Severus's hand. "Too bad, Severus. My mind is made up. Shall we?" He stood and waited for Severus to join him. Severus did so reluctantly, and together they left the dungeons for the library corridor. 

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Dumbledore waited in the hallway until Severus had entered the room and closed the door behind him. He knew the Tranquillity Parlor was still occupied by Hermione. He hoped he was not pushing something better left alone, but he had learned long ago to trust his instincts. His instincts were telling him that Severus and Hermione needed to come to a working agreement to their mutual benefits. 'Perhaps I should put a ward on the door to prevent Severus from fleeing,' he thought. 'No, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. I think I need some chocolate now. Mounds of it.' With that he walked back down the corridor and left the Tranquillity Parlor to work its own special magic. 


	8. Regaining Chapter 8: Reconsider

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 10: Reconsider**

_Reconsider - to consider again; to think over, as with a view to changing a decision_

Author's Notes: I want a Tranquillity Parlor. I am not sure where it came from, but it is a good place. I want to keep the characterizations of Hermione and Severus correct. I really think Hermione would have a wealth of empathy and forgiveness in her heart. Along the same lines, Severus is not going to ever start painting pictures of sad clowns and begging everyone's forgiveness. So I tried to keep them both "right" but stretch them a bit. I hope it worked. 

Also, think of the Blessing Books magic as that of public library/school filtered internet providers - they only capture appropriate images ;) 

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Severus kept his back to the door of the Tranquillity Parlor. His eyes were closed, and he was slowly bending to the power of the room. He hated the Parlor not because it was an unpleasant place. On the contrary, it was a treasured place, although he had come here only a handful of times. He hated it because in this room, he was forced to let down his barriers of self-loathing and bitterness. He was used to those barriers; they were comforting because they had been part of him for so long. The initial serenity he felt here was foreign to him. The longer he spent in the Parlor, the more the peace became a solace. When he had to leave it, it was like being expelled from a paradise. He knew he needed to be here to get control of himself, but the pain of leaving tonight would be excruciating. 

He breathed in the soothing air, listening to the waterfall. Then he heard a rustle which didn't quite fit. He opened his eyes and was shocked to see Hermione Granger's surprised face peering over the top of a sofa. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, too startled to paint his voice with its normal acid. 

--------------------------------------------- 

Hermione was surrounded by photo albums. She had looked through all of the ones from her school years and then had looked to other times. Some of the albums were very thin, especially the ones from the late 1970's. The one from 1981 was the largest. Hermione was fascinated by the pictures from that year. There were celebrations and parties documented throughout most of the book. She had deduced by now that these albums showed the wonderful moments, planned and unplanned, at Hogwarts. It was hard not to smile back at the pictures sometimes. She had found few pictures of Professor Snape. None of them showed him looking particularly pleased, but in some he seemed a bit less gloomy than others. She had almost giggled in spite of herself when she found one from his Sorting. He was sitting on the stool and grinning slightly, a small, scrawny boy with the Sorting Hat falling down over his eyes. Other pictures showed him in class, as a student mostly, working on projects or receiving high marks. He was never shown in groups of friends, although there was one where he stood on the fringes of a group of Slytherin teenagers, smirking and laughing in their formal robes. The students were in pairs, but he was alone. His sad eyes betrayed his stern expression. As the years progressed, there were several awkward staff pictures, but not many candid ones. There was one unusual picture from 1981 that kept drawing her attention. In it, Snape was sitting in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore was sitting beside him, a hand on his shoulder. His face looked care worn yet comforting. Snape's face was covered by his shaking hands, and on his left forearm she could see bloody scratches still dripping. This didn't look like a happy moment in time, but it must have been significant somehow. 

In the volumes from her own school years, she saw herself and Harry and Ron and their friends on page after page. Pictures of Fred and George Weasley alone could have filled their own series of albums. Despite the awful things that had happened and were still happening, people could smile, laugh, and achieve in their studies. Even the slim albums from the time of Voldemort's greatest power were full of witches and wizards carrying on with their lives as joyfully as possible. She glanced at the picture from last year's Potions class once more. 'I have had so much to be happy about,' she thought. 'I am smart. I have friends who would do anything for me. I have people who can help me and who want me to get better - and if one of those is Snape, well.... I guess I can handle it.' Of course thinking that in this beautiful, warm room was a bit different than actually starting back to work with him, but she was reconsidering her opinion of him. Seeing the different pictures of him had made her feel for him. He was always alone, always unhappy... it couldn't be a very fun life to live. 'I can give him a chance,' she thought, 'It's not like he'll be my best friend. He's a teacher, and I like teachers as a rule.' If Dumbledore trusted him, she would as well. Even if he had initially started all of this, he had not been the one who poisoned her. Hermione didn't like how anger, hatred, and vengeance made her feel; the thought of forgiveness, on the other hand, was cleansing. 'That's all well and good, but how are you going to feel when you see him again?' she thought. Then she heard the door open and close. She huddled into the sofa, her eyes peeking over the top of it. 'Sweet Circe, it's him!' 

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"How did you get in here?" Severus asked, his face paler than usual.. 

Hermione held up the key to the room. "The Headmaster said this was a good place to think," she said in a small voice. She was quite surprised her stomach was not churning again upon the sight of him. 

"Did he really now? Crafty old man," Severus muttered to himself. He wondered if he could make a quick exit without Dumbledore noticing. 'Not bloody likely - he probably put up a ward to keep you in here.' He groaned inwardly. Dumbledore must have decided the two of them needed to come to terms with the events of the evening in a neutral place. 

"I can leave, Sir," said Hermione quickly, scrambling to her feet, "I can think just as well in the Library." 

"No, Miss Granger, please stay," Severus said with a sigh. "I think the Headmaster wants us both to be here." 

"Why?" asked Hermione. "And what is this room, by the way? It's a wonderful place." As she was speaking, she realized that she was talking to him without going to pieces. 'I can be in the same room with him. That's a good start.' 

'Well, the poor girl can stand to be in the same room as me. That's a start," thought Severus. He walked over to the farthest window corner, maintaining as much space between them as possible. "This is the Tranquillity Parlor. It's charmed with every spell possible to make a person feel at peace. Primarily it's used for making difficult decisions or for healing hurts of the mind. It belongs to Dumbledore, but he encourages the staff to use it when needed." 

"Did he encourage you to use it tonight?" Hermione asked. 

"Did you ever stop to think that your incessant questions are not welcomed," he snapped. He saw Hermione flinch, and he flinched as well. After all that had happened, how could he still be so cruel and unthinking? "Please forgive me that outburst, Miss Granger. I am... a bit on edge, as I'm sure you are. To answer your question, the Headmaster ordered me to come here." He paused for a moment. "Miss Granger, if I may ask... how are you? Now, I mean?" he said softly. 

Hermione felt composed instead of panicked, despite the burst of irritation he had directed towards her. This room had powerful magic indeed. When she spoke, her voice was even. "Well, aside from still not knowing how or when I will recover from the magical attack that has changed my life, I am... well, I've been better, but I'm okay. I had a good talk with the Headmaster, and I have been quite contented sitting here looking at pictures. There is a Muggle saying which goes 'A picture paints a thousand words' - very fitting for these photos. I know that my questions aren't welcome, but could I ask you about these albums?" 

"Of course, Miss Granger, I owe you that much at the very least," said Severus grimly. 

"Please, Professor, you needn't look so grave," said Hermione, smiling. It was a bit amusing to see him look so intimidated. "I'm not going to ask you for secrets of the Enemy or answers to the Potions final. I just want to know about the photos. Are they Dumbledore's as well?" 

"Yes, they are. He calls these albums his Blessing Books because they contain records of the happiest moments at Hogwarts. He uses them to reflect on the favorable times in his life when faced with times of tragedy." 

"How does he take the pictures?" she asked, "I don't remember seeing cameras in use for any of the pictures of me." 

Severus had only ever been alone in the Tranquillity Parlor. Now he discovered that in the presence of another, the blasted magic made him want to talk. He didn't even mind now that she was asking questions. "I believe the images are captured by way of the Headmaster's net of Protection magicks. I never thought to ask how the images are made, but I know that they are recorded in a book in his office. Whenever there is a joyous or pleasant moment in the castle, it's entered in the album as it happened." 

"I've been looking at pictures of you, Sir," Hermione said, stacking a few albums in front of her. 

"Indeed," he said warily, settling into an arm chair still quite some ways from Hermione's sofa. 

She held up the picture from Potions class. "Dumbledore said you thought a great deal of me, but you would never let on. Why is that? In this picture you look as proud as any of my other teachers. Why must you always glower and make me feel as if I accomplish nothing in your class?" Hermione had wanted to know this for some time. It was a relief being in a place where she could ask. 

Severus gazed at the picture. One side of his mouth curved up in a faint smile. He remembered that day very well and was not surprised it had been recorded in the Blessing Book. "I was quite proud of your efforts that day, Miss Granger," Severus began, "I hardly believed you would be able to do the potion correctly until I saw it glowing in your vial. Sometimes your class needs to be brought down a notch. I am sure you have noticed that between the Gryffindors and Slytherins of your year, there are a few particularly headstrong and persistent students, yourself included. My intention that day was to give the class a problem that could not be easily solved. However, you astonished me by solving it, thus making my plan irrelevant. I glower, as you say, because I am surprised constantly by your abilities." 

"And you can't simply say, 'Nice work' on a job well done?" asked Hermione, a bit flippantly. 

"When I was a student, I surprised my teachers constantly as well. I was given a remarkable amount of praise which resulted in an overwhelming amount of arrogance. I felt that I could do no wrong. When I made... unfortunate choices, I was not prepared for the consequences. I don't dole out praise because I don't want to contribute, however marginally, to encouraging arrogance in my brightest pupils. Besides that, only the brightest students are worthy of any of my praise. They are a precious few." 

Hermione pulled out some more albums from the stacks in front of her. She slid them across the table towards him, opened to various pages. She was going to take advantage of his loquacity while she could. "All right, so you don't want to give us big heads. I can see that. It still doesn't explain why you can't be civil to your students." He did not respond to that, so she changed the subject. "You're always alone in these pictures. Did you ever have any friends?" 

He looked at the pictures she was showing. "No, Miss Granger, I did not. Not like most people anyway. Oh, I was envious of loud groups of friends making noise and causing mischief. But I had my studies and my books. They were more important to me in the long run." 

"Why, because they didn't talk back when you were moping about like a miserable prat?" Hermione said before she could stop herself. She froze. Maybe there was Veritaserum vapor in this room as well. 

Severus stared at her. His first reaction was to lash out at her impudence, but that was tempered by the knowledge that she was seeing through him pretty well based on a bunch of pictures in old albums. "Actually, that's about right. I was never good with interpersonal skills." 

This last statement struck Hermione as ludicrous. This whole series of events was plain ridiculous. Here she was, Hermione Elizabeth Granger, Muggle-born witch, best friend of the famous Harry Potter, sitting in an enchanted room talking with a personal nemesis about his lack of people skills. It was all too much. Hermione began laughing. Once she started, she couldn't stop. Every time she looked at Professor Snape, her laughter would intensify. He was sitting stiffly in his chair with his face fluctuating between alarm, bewilderment, and vexation. After several minutes, she managed to squeak out, "I am sorry, Sir," she began, "but that was the understatement of the century." She started giggling again, and any remaining tension she felt dissipated into peals of laughter. 

To his great surprise, Severus felt the lightness of her mood affect him. He smiled and said, "I suppose it was an obvious statement." Hearing her laughter made him believe that there was good in the world, and that he could be part of it. But this was still a very serious situation, and he was the adult here. He had his responsibilities to this child. 

"Miss Granger," Severus said haltingly, "I need to... to apologize. I am sorry for being the cause of your poisoning. If I had never worked on the Leeching Elixir project in the first place, you would not be suffering right now. I wish I could give you more than my regrets." He expected her to stare at him with hatred or disgust, but Hermione simply watched him with a gentle expression. Her laughter had stopped, and she felt purified from the mire of her own dark thoughts. 

"Professor Snape, I know you didn't have anything to do with my poisoning," said Hermione in a voice that sounded older and more mature. "I can forgive you for discovering the potion. If it wouldn't be too awkward for you, I would like to continue working with you to regain my powers. I would, however, appreciate knowing what your plans are for dealing with my condition. I don't like to be kept in the dark." 

"Very well, Miss Granger, I will be most relieved to begin again," said Severus. He felt like the dark shadows of his thoughts were being flooded with light from this noble Gryffindor girl before him. 'How could she consider forgiving me,' he thought, but even that black thought was whisked away before he could dwell on it. "It won't be easy, I fear, but I think a recovery is feasible. I must warn you that the... feelings you have right now may be intensified by the properties of the Tranquillity Parlor. You may not feel as magnanimous towards me once you leave. I will not change my behaviour to please others. As I told you during the first session, I will not be your friend or confidant, but I will do my best to make you better." 

"Sir, I would simply like a skilled teacher to work with me," said Hermione. "I do not like being ordered and bullied, but I am always ready for a challenge. Do you think... Can we do this?" 

"I am willing to try," said Severus. 

"As am I," replied Hermione. 

"It is getting late, Miss Granger. Am I correct in guessing that you skipped dinner as well as your evening dose of Magnifying potion?" 

"Yes, Sir," said Hermione, "I'm pretty hungry." She yawned, and her bones felt heavy all of a sudden. "And more than a bit tired. It's not a good idea to skip the Magnifying potion, is it?" 

"It is of utmost importance to take it as scheduled," he said with his usual rigid demeanor. "Come now, I will escort you back to your dormitory. Would you be averse to having a house elf bring a late dinner to your room? I rather think you shouldn't be traipsing about the castle by yourself at this hour." Severus took out his wand and with one wave sent the Blessing Books back to their proper spaces. 

"That would be fine. Sir, could we meet for a session tomorrow?" said Hermione, standing up, "I should like to get my recovery on its way. I am tired of waiting." 

"I think that would be an excellent idea," said Severus, standing as well. "Shall we?" He gestured towards the door. Hermione turned to face him. Maybe it was because of the magic in the Parlor, or maybe it was because a part of her had grown up this night, but Hermione felt the need to make some connection with Professor Snape. She extended her right hand to him. Severus was not sure what she was doing for a moment, until he recognized she wanted to shake his hand. He tentatively reached out to grasp her hand. This was merely a formal gesture, but the intimacy of it almost overwhelmed Severus. It implied her trust and goodwill and her acceptance of him. It was a touch unlike anything he had ever experienced. Once in the hallway with the Parlor behind them, Severus noticed that the feelings of despondency he had expected were not weighing upon him. 

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In Albus Dumbledore's office, a book with golden numbers on the spine was glowing. When Albus opened it up, he was pleased to see a new picture developing of a brave, eager student and a tired, relieved teacher shaking hands in front of a wall of snowy windows. 


	9. Regaining Chapter 9: Resume

**Regaining by Vivien B. **

**Chapter 11: Resume**

_Resume - 2. to begin again after an interruption_

Author's note: Thank you to Aspen for all the research and for the idea of a creative arts class at Hogwarts. 

Professor Snape had walked with Hermione to the Fat Lady's portrait and had then slipped away with a quiet "Good evening, Miss Granger." Hermione said the password and walked into the passage to the common room. The room was loud as usual with students playing Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess or sitting around chatting and laughing. She scanned the room and saw Harry sitting alone at one of the study tables. She walked over to him. Harry looked up with surprise and relief. 

"Where have you been?" he asked. "We were getting frantic until Dumbledore sent us a note. What on earth happened?" 

"Oh, Harry, it's such a long and complicated story," sighed Hermione. "Where's Ron?" 

"He's in the library," said Harry, his eyes glittering, "with Eleanor Devereaux - you know, that 5th year Hufflepuff he's had his eye on. They are studying, or so he claims. But don't try to change the subject." 

Already the feelings of calm from the Tranquillity Parlor were fading away. She didn't regret anything that she had said or done, but she was discouraged to feel the real world settle into her thoughts again. She sat down beside Harry, her eyes downcast and thoughtful. "Professor Snape and I were... working out something having to do with my healing. I don't want to go into it just now." She glanced at him. "Besides, I know you get tired of hearing me moan and complain. I don't want to wear out your ear." 

Harry turned in his chair so that he was facing her. "Hermione, I will always be here for you. I won't ever get tired of listening to whatever you have to say. Especially right now -- you need to talk about what you're going through." 

Hermione smiled faintly. "Listen, I'm going up to my room for a few minutes to eat something. I don't really feel like talking, but could we play chess or something later? I'd like to keep my mind occupied by something not having to do with my condition for awhile." 

"That sounds fine," said Harry smiling. Hermione was usually so busy with her studies that she rarely played games anymore. He would be happy to let her relax and forget awhile. However, he would be happier if she would talk about what was bothering her. He could clearly see that something was not right. 

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When Hermione awoke on Friday morning, she stayed in bed for awhile trying to think. Crookshanks had come to sit on her chest, and she found that petting him as he purred warmth into her body made the thinking somewhat easier. She and Harry had played two games of chess last night, but they had spent most of the time laughing about how bad they both still were at the game. Ron had come back from the library and had joined them. He had tried to give a few serious pointers before giving up totally, and the three had spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about happier times. She had gone to bed feeling better. With the light of the new day, she found herself conflicted again. She had made her decision to continue her course of treatment with Professor Snape. She would not go back on that. She wanted to get on with her life, and she knew Snape was the most logical person to help her do that. That knowledge did not make things any easier. 

'If only he hadn't been so ghastly all these years,' she thought. 'Well, there's nothing for it.' She gently moved Crookshanks off of her and got ready to face the day. 

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This was the third day in a row that she had felt good physically, and she had used it to catch up on course work and read a bit more of the medical texts in between classes. She was having a bit of trouble with her homework though. It was taking her an extra read through to remember certain parts of her Transfiguration and Charms lessons. She didn't actually have homework in either class, but she had wanted to stay current with what the classes were covering. Her Arithmancy assignments were no problem, but it was as if the words slipped away when she tried to read from her other magic texts. She attributed this to being tired; she was still exhausted enough to need a nap during the early afternoon. Other than that, she felt well. Or perhaps not well, but well enough to keep pushing to get better. 

When 4:00 rolled around she made her way down to the dungeons. On the stairs to the Potions classroom, she felt the now familiar stirring of uncertainty. She mentally pushed it away. She was determined to regain her powers, and if Snape was the only one who could help her, then she would just have to deal with it. 'Come on, Hermione,' she thought, as she approached the door, 'It's not going to be fluffy kittens and chocolate frogs, but it will have to be bearable.' She walked inside. 

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Severus had been aware of the important change that had occurred last night. While Hermione probably did not forgive him all the way, she had forgiven him enough to let him help her. He had decided that he would simply be as professional and informative as he could be. He knew that she would appreciate him being a detached yet helpful instructor. As 4:00 approached, he was a bit concerned about what her state of mind would be. He hoped to show her much today and get to work on her recovery with full force. When he saw her walk in the classroom, he put aside the papers he was grading and walked to the front student table where he had several parchments spread out. 

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Hermione was surprised to see Professor Snape waiting for her, after being so summarily dismissed the day before. She walked up to the table, put down her note taking parchments, and waited a moment in silence. 

"How are you feeling today, Miss Granger," Severus said with a bit of hesitation. 

"I'm pretty well," she replied. "Not too tired. Not too overwrought, thank Merlin." She smiled slightly. "I'm ready to start getting better. What are we going to do today?" 

Severus looked her over for a moment. She did look much more relaxed than she had yesterday. "I want to be honest with you, Miss Granger," he said, "I was very concerned about your... emotional state after what transpired yesterday. I'm glad you're here today. I won't dwell on what... we discussed, but I will say I admire your courage. I know this is not easy." 

"No, Sir, it's not. Can we get started?" She said this with as calm a voice as she could muster. 

"I have written a schedule for you of what I expect to cover in these sessions," Severus said. "It is flexible, of course, depending on your needs and rate of recovery. Please take time to peruse it later. For today, I would like to perform another brain scan and teach you a charm which I hope will prove helpful to you. I would also like to begin assessing what magical abilities you have retained." 

"That sounds fine. Thank you for the effort to include me in my own recovery," she said, a bit wryly as she took the scroll he handed her. Severus bristled a bit at the tone in her voice, but then reminded himself to stop. 'Don't make things worse than they already are,' he said to himself. 

Hermione had found her previous brain scan parchment. She had activated the diagram with her wand, and she felt the shock of seeing the damage to her brain all over again. "The Magnifying potion should make the brain activity work more normally, yes?" she asked. 

Severus nodded. "It should. Mind you, the newer brew is not as powerful as the first. I hope to build the potion's strength over time to be more effectual. You must take it slowly, though. Side effects can be unpredictable when dealing with potions of this strength. On that note, I sent a request to St. Mungo's for the abstract on the pain drops. Have you been taking the drops today?" 

"Yes, I took a dosage right before I left my dormitory," Hermione replied. "Thank you for sending for the information." There was an awkward pause as they both looked at anything besides each other. Hermione broke the silence. "Well, Sir, I am ready to begin. For the scan, shall I do Wingardium Leviosa again?" 

"Please, Miss Granger," he replied, taking out the spell instructions from his pocket. 

Hermione sent a quill into the air with ease. She tried to catch some of the Latin Snape was mumbling this time, since pain wasn't crushing through her skull. 'I wonder if you can do this on yourself?' she thought. 'That would be handy.' 

When he was done, he pointed his wand towards a blank parchment and once more commanded "Scribo." Hermione watched with bated breath as the image developed on the paper. This time she felt relieved to see much more of her brain working. There were still bare spots where the energy was not flowing, and many more patches where a small stream of yellow connected different areas of her brain together, but it was much better than the first scanned image. She took a deep breath of relief and tapped the figure to see different views. It seemed that the right hemisphere had taken the most damage. There were more bare spots here than on the left side. Severus stood back to let her have as much undisturbed time as she needed to take this in. He was very concerned about the damage to her right hemisphere That side had been shown to be the center for the abstract spells and magic such as Transfiguration and Charms. The left side housed the center for the more analytical magic such as Potion brewing. 'Only time will tell what she has really lost,' he thought. 'Time and much hard work, I fear.' 

Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "I asked my parents to send me a Muggle book on brain injuries. I told them it was for a research paper I was writing in Muggle Studies. In it there was a comparison of damage to the neurons of the brain being like a bad Muggle car crash involving lots of people. Some die straight away. Some are injured so badly that they die a few hours or days later. Some never work quite right ever again, but some are not harmed. I guess when you factor in magic helpers like the Magnifying potion, that changes the comparison a bit, but still... This is not an exact science. If you hadn't been there the day I was poisoned, I would be much worse off than I am, wouldn't I?" 

"Your brain could have been damaged much more severely if immediate action had not been taken. I was able, luckily, to provide an antidote. The poison was countered quickly, so with any luck, that will greatly improve your chances of recovery." 

"I've been trying a few spells in my room," said Hermione. "I'm having some small success with simple charms, but Transfiguration... I'm worried, Professor Snape. What if I can't... " The tears had started to sting in her eyes again. "What if I can't do magic? What will become of me?" 

"Miss Granger, we have quite a long way to go before you can give up hope. Let's stop with the 'what ifs' until such a time as they are warranted." His voice was stern, but not cruel. 

"Of course, Sir," she said, daubing her eyes quickly, "The realization of all this still hits me with a shock whenever I think of... what has changed for me." 

"Perhaps you have too much time to think, now that you are feeling better," he replied. "What would you say to resuming Potions and one of your electives next week. I understand you are taking Creative Arts of the Wizarding World? That should not overly strain you." 

"I think I would do well with more things to keep me busy. What was the charm you wanted to teach me?" Hermione said, indicating the open book in front of Professor Snape. 

Severus turned the book towards her. "It is called Supero. Do you know what that term means?" 

"Of course I do," she said with eagerness. "It means to rise above, or to overcome." Noticing his look of approval she added, "I've taken Latin courses over summer holidays." 

"Very wise of you," he said, and then continued with a scowl, "Too many rely only on Translation spells these days, which are not always accurate. Now then, the Supero charm is used in cases of magic users who have difficulty with specific kinds of complex magic. It is also used for those who have little magical capability at all. It strengthens the spells by focusing the energy and power of the person who is using it. Supero is not, however, an easy charm to master. Please read the description of Supero in this book. You will need to practice it for some time before you can use it correctly." 

She read the page once. Then with a frown, she read the page again. The first time the words hadn't been clear to her, like when she had been trying to study earlier. Usually one quick scan of articles such as this was sufficient. The second read through helped a great deal, but she was concerned. Severus had also noticed that she'd read it twice. Her furrowed brow made him uneasy. 

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" he asked. 

"No... well, yes. Maybe," she replied. "I've noticed I'm having trouble reading and remembering information as well as usual. But only for certain things, like Transfiguration and Charms lessons. Do you think that is something that could be a concern?" 

"It is possible," he said. "I have another parchment of Hightower and Goyle's research to show you." 

He reached for a roll of parchment and began unrolling it across the table. Hermione read the title. **Gleanings from Muggle Science: Or How We Can Better Understand the Brain Using Magical Means and Muggle Knowledge, Parchment 1a. **

Like the other research parchments Snape had shown her, this one had a figure of a brain. This time it was mapped out into sections. She read on. 

**The Brain and Its Workings **

**Muggle scientists have begun interesting work with rudimentary mappings of the human brain. Specific areas have been revealed to control the bodily functions and the perceptions. We have gone further to map the magical brain and its control centers. The majority of magical energy circulates through the cerebral cortex. The cerebral cortex has two hemispheres, both of which are autonomous from each other in regards to function and memory storage. The hemispheres are joined by the corpus collosum. The left hemisphere controls the areas of language, mathematics skill, logic, and analysis. This hemisphere is most active when brewing potions, performing calculations, and during problem solving. The right hemisphere houses the control of spatial awareness, visual perception, musical ability, and creativity. The parietal region of the right hemisphere is more specifically the area which multisensory information is processed. It is most active when spells, charms, divination, and transfiguration are performed. We intend to go more in depth as per the actual workings of the brain throughout this series. **

Hermione grabbed the parchment with her latest brain scan and compared it to the diagram. The section most damaged was the parietal region, along with the rest of the right hemisphere. "Oh no," she said softly. Severus had been watching her closely. He had already come to the conclusion she was making once he had seen the new scan. The memories enclosed in the most damaged areas might be impaired, but the main concern was that Hermione's center for abstract magic had been seriously harmed. 

"If your memory has been affected, there are many ways to improve the memory you have," he said, trying his very best to sound comforting. 

"Let me guess, a Memory potion," she said, crestfallen. 

"If it comes to that, yes. But there are other ways to retrain your memory. We should worry about them _if_ the time comes. The memory loss and the difficulty retaining information you are experiencing may be a temporary result of the damage to your brain. That is very common, apparently. As you said yourself, this is not an exact science." 

"Could we contact Hightower and Goyle, Sir?" Hermione asked hopefully. "I mean, they know so much about the magical brain. Surely they could help." 

Severus was silent for a moment. "If they were available, I would have owled them straight-away. Unfortunately, they became enemies of the Dark Lord when they published their research. They were assassinated over twenty years ago." 

Hermione clenched her fists, and her face twisted in anger. "I would take great personal pleasure in watching that vile bastard die slowly and painfully," Hermione said in a chilling voice. 

Severus changed the subject before she could dwell much longer on Voldemort. "We know that due to the specific area damaged, Transfiguration and Charms will probably be more difficult for you to relearn. They won't be impossible, just difficult. The Supero will help you with that. On the positive side, your left hemisphere has not sustained that much damage. You already mentioned that Arithmancy has caused you no issues, and your Potions skills should also be less of a problem to recover. Now summarize what you read about the Supero charm." 

Hermione glanced at the book again and then said, "The charm is basically a centering spell in which you are to visualize the results of whatever magic is being invoked. Then you point your wand at yourself and say "Supero" either silently or in a whisper. It doesn't sound very difficult to me." Hermione looked up with a smile. "I shall go home tonight and try this on a Transfiguration spell." 

Severus raised on eyebrow and with a smirk said, "I shall be surprised if you can, Miss Granger, but you do have the tendency to be surprising. Now, why don't we start your assessment. I think we should start slowly with first year potions?" 

"Why not?" she said, pushing up her sleeves. 

Severus conjured a cauldron and vials of ingredients onto the table before her. "Very well, why don't we start with a simple Burn Relief potion. Here is Magical Drafts and Potions, if you need it as a reference. It has been six years since you brewed these potions afterall, and I am not as yet testing your memory." 

Hermione automatically reached for the ingredients and began the simple potion. She had no trouble. She kindled the magical fire for the cauldron and activated the potion's contents. In a few moments, the Burn Relief potion was ready. Severus pronounced it accurate, and he gave her the next potion assignment. This one Hermione remembered, but she still looked it up in the book to make sure. The rest of the session went by quickly with Hermione brewing several more potions, all done to perfection. Towards the end of the hour, though, Hermione felt an ache well up behind her eyes, and she began to move more slowly. Severus called the session to an end when he noticed her rubbing her forehead after brewing a slightly more complex Snail Rendering potion. 

"I think I've seen enough for this evening" he said as he whisked away the equipment with a wave of his wand. He gave her a piercing stare and asked, "Miss Granger, how badly does your head hurt?" 

"Not badly, Sir. It just aches. I'm a bit tired is all," she said. 

"Hmm, I may have asked you to do too much at once. I will make sure you have a break next session. Are you still sure about resuming your other two classes next week?" 

"Oh yes, please," she said, "I'm more than ready. Are we finished then?" 

"Yes, we are," he said. After a pause he continued, "I am pleased with your efforts tonight." 

"Well, honestly, I should be able to do those potions in my sleep." She gathered up the parchment scroll on the pain drops and the Supero book. "See you on Monday?" 

"Indeed, Miss Granger," Severus said. 


	10. Regaining Chapter 10: Remain

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 12: Remain**

_Remain - 4. to continue to exist; persist_

Author's Note: I borrowed _Ars Alchemica_ from Riley and Pawn to Queen. Thank you to Aspen for checking my goofs. Also a note on Ron and the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I figure by the time 6th year rolls around, the team will need replacements as Angelina, Fred, and George are all gone by then. Ron seems a likely candidate to take a position on the team. 

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Harry had decided to meet Hermione after her session with Snape. Other than the previous night, he had hardly seen her the whole week. Last night, she had obviously been avoiding something that was bothering her a great deal. So he was waiting for her on the main floor of the castle, but he wanted to make it look like a chance meeting. Ron was busy with an extra Beater practice on the Quidditch field, and Harry thought he might as well try to get Hermione to talk about whatever was bothering her. He had a feeling something was going on that was troubling her more than she already had been. At nearly 5:00, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the dungeon. He hurried away from the stairs so it would look like he was passing through the hallway. 

Hermione was deep in thought as she reached the main floor. 'I should've asked to borrow some of the brain scans and research,' she was thinking. She was desperate to start work on mastering Supero. Her stomach ached whenever she thought of how difficult Transfiguration and Charms might be from now on. 'From now on... ' she thought, biting her lip. 'Oh gods, why did this have to happen to me?' She saw Harry walking by, seeming not to notice her. She waved at him, relieved to see a friendly face. 

"Oh, hullo, Hermione!" said Harry cheerfully. "I'm just back from the Quidditch field. Ron's working on some new moves with that third year who's just joined the team." 

"You're not practicing as well?" Hermione asked, a bit suspiciously. 

"Nah, I wasn't in the mood," he said casually. "I was going to head up to the dormitory before dinner. Play a game of chess, laugh over old times." He smiled at her in that disarming way he had. 

"Harry Potter, you didn't arrange to run into me, did you?" said Hermione, raising one eyebrow. 

"Wow, Hermione, a fellow can't get by with anything around you." 

Hermione laughed. "Honestly, Harry, you're so transparent sometimes. Why are you being so gallant? Trying to rescue a damsel in distress from Professor Snape? Or from herself?" 

"Well, yeah, kind of," said Harry, turning serious. "I've been worried about you. I thought I'd be here if you needed to talk. You know, since you had your session and all just now. So... are you okay?" 

"And is Mr. Weasley going to be coincidentally running into us as well?" she asked, deflecting his question. 

"Hermione, you know that Ron would fight his way through an Acromantula colony for you, but I thought I might do better in the listening department." 

Hermione hesitated. "Well, to answer your question, I guess I'm as okay as I can be. I've found out some things this week that put me in a spin, but I'm coping. Well, trying not to think too much anyway. I'm becoming skilled at denial." She tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a choked sob. 

Harry put an arm around her and led her to the doors of Hogwarts. "Shall we take a walk? It's almost dark, but we could go through the gardens." 

"Yeah, okay, that sounds fine," said Hermione, sniffling. 

Once they were walking in the gardens, Hermione told Harry everything she had learned over the past days. She told him about Snape, the Tranquillity Parlor, the extent of the damage... everything. Harry listened without interrupting, although what he was hearing chilled him more than the wintry evening air. He called up a Warming Charm to envelop them so that they could stay in the gardens as long as Hermione wanted. Eventually, she stopped talking, and they ended up standing for a time in the center of the gardens. 

"Harry, can you imagine what it would be like to be a Muggle again?" she said staring into the distance. 

"Yeah, some of my worst nightmares have featured me back at the Dursleys forever," said Harry. "The dreams are awful, but not because I can't do magic. More because I'm stuck with the Dursleys. Though I can't imagine not being able to fly anymore. Is that what's bothering you the most, Hermione? The thought of having to go back to being a Muggle?" 

Hermione nodded, biting her lip. She had managed not to cry throughout the conversation, but this admission brought the tears fast. 

"But Snape says you still have magical energy in your brain, right? And you're able to do some magic?" . 

Tears slid down her cheeks. She pulled a handkerchief from one of her pockets - she had decided to keep one with her at all times since she was so prone to crying lately. "It's there, but it's weak. I've always felt... like I wasn't as good as the students from wizarding families. They'll always have an edge over me because I didn't grow up in this culture. I've studied so hard and worked so hard because I wanted to show I _was_ as good as them. Better, even. Now with this... I'm not going to be good enough anymore. I don't know where I'll fit in after Hogwarts." She covered her face. This was the darkest thought, the one she spent most of her waking hours pushing away. What would become of a magic user who couldn't use magic? 

"Hermione, look at me," said Harry, turning her to him. "You _are_ good enough - even with your weakened powers - to be the best witch at Hogwarts. You're smart, you're driven, and you don't ever give up. I have to agree with Snape, though I'm loathe to admit it, that we don't know how badly your powers have been damaged. I think you're dwelling on a fear that won't come true. You won't have to go back to the Muggle world, Hermione. You might not be able to do magic as easily as before, but you'll be part of our world. And a powerful, intelligent part of it, I might add. You remember how it is when Muggles get hurt, and I mean badly hurt, like in car crashes and such. It takes a long time for bodies to get better without magic, and I reckon that goes for complicated brain injuries like yours, too. I know you're afraid. I am, too. But I think you need to wait awhile before you torture yourself over the future. What is the saying... one day at a time? Can you try to focus on one day at a time and not on forever?" 

"I can try," she replied, wiping her eyes. It was helpful to hear this. When she tried to convince herself of the same things he'd just said, it didn't work. It wasn't comforting coming from Professor Snape either, although she knew he was making an attempt at least. The Warming Charm was starting to wear off, and the chill of the night air crept through her robes. She was tired again and ready to stop thinking about all this for the night. "I'm starving. Let's go see if dinner's ready," she said wiping her eyes one last time and tucking away the handkerchief. "Thank you for listening, Harry. I really appreciate this." 

"Hey, what are friends for? Listen to me, I'm full of clichés tonight," he said, as they walked towards the castle doors. "How about this one; it's always darkest before the dawn. No? Umm.. how about let your smile be your umbrella." Harry kept up with a string of the worst proverbs and sayings he could think of until he got a smile out of his friend. Once they were inside the castle, Hermione headed straight for the Great Hall. Harry had further business tonight. He was going to do something foolhardy, but he felt it needed to be done. He was going to try and have a word with Snape about Hermione. "Go ahead, Hermione," he said quickly, "I just remembered I needed to check on something. I'll be right back, okay?" 

"Okay," she said, "Don't be long - dinner smells delicious." Harry waited until Hermione had walked into the Great Hall, and then he wheeled around and headed in the direction of the dungeons. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Severus was standing over a rack of bubbling beakers and vials. He had been working for weeks on analyzing the Leeching Elixir in whatever spare time he had between teaching, researching ways to help Hermione, and performing the tasks necessary to maintain the subterfuge of his renewed involvement as a spy. While he had isolated most of the elements of the Elixir, the remaining ingredients continued to be elusive. He knew that some of the components he had found were bound magically to other substances, explaining why eyebright, which brought clarity of memory, and horehound infusion, which cleared the mind, were present. Whatever they were bound with must have twisted their healing properties to instead attack the victim. 

His design for the potion had been more straightforward. It had contained dragon's blood palm, Nundu venom, woody nightshade, several tricky incantations to activate these magical substances in specific ways, and enough concentrated laudanum to strip away whatever magic, or sanity, the person who drank it possessed. It was a crude recipe, but an effective one. When he had realized that it would work against Muggle-born and Pureblooded alike, he had been truly frightened. If Voldemort had gotten hold of it, the world Severus knew could have been destroyed in a reign of chaos and ruination unlike any seen before. Even though he scorned the world and most of the magic users in it, deep down he knew he would never want to be the cause of its demise. 

He had become a Death Eater because he had foolishly believed Voldemort's propaganda against the Muggle-born and in the divine right for the intelligent and pure to rule the wizarding world. His intellect and pride had been used against him. In Voldemort's service, he was a valued academic, the Dark Lord's best Potions Brewer, specializing in defense against Auror magical tactics. He wasn't considered an odd duck with no friends and no dashing good looks as he had been at school. But over time, he had seen what swaggering, murdering scum his fellow Death Eaters were. Still he wanted to feel important, valued. The Leeching Elixir assignment had been a challenge. He hadn't thought of its consequences, really, until the results stared him in the face. The allure of the Dark Lord had faded quickly once he saw him as a sociopath, bent on decimating whomever stood in his way - even his followers. That was when he had made the decision to go over to Dumbledore. 

He never regretted that decision, even when he writhed in pain under Crucio, his frequent punishment for not returning to the fold quickly enough when Voldemort rose again. He was regarded with growing suspicion by his fellow Death Eaters, but Voldemort still found him useful. However, the matters of secret plots and plans of the Dark Lord were not always shared with Severus anymore. If they had been, he would have risked everything to spare Hermione from the Elixir. He sighed and pointed his wand at a beaker in which a distilled measure of the Elixir was dripping through a tube from a bubbling vial. In this portion were traces of Nundu venom, dragon's blood palm, and something else. Something he had never seen before and seemed to be impervious to all methods of magical detection. He banged the table in frustration. So focused was he on the task before him, that he didn't see his least favorite student standing at the classroom door. 

------------------------------------------------------ 

Harry watched Snape working and wondered again whether this was such a great idea. He knew Snape despised him, and the feeling was quite mutual. He didn't want to confront the man, even though Hermione's revelations tonight made his skin crawl. He simply wanted to ask him about Hermione's state of mind. From what she had told him, he was treating her fairly and not in his usual unpleasant manner. Surely he wouldn't be so petty as to refuse to speak with him. Then again, it was Snape. 

"Excuse me, Professor Snape, might I have a word with you," he called from the safety of the doorway. 

Severus looked up with a start, and then his face twisted into the usual look of hatred he reserved for Harry Potter. "What are you doing here, Mr. Potter?" he hissed. 

"I wanted to ask you about Hermione," he replied, trying to keep his voice free of any emotion, "She's shared with me a lot of what she's going through, and I'm worried about how she's doing." 

Severus glared at Harry while thoughts raced through his mind. 'What does the boy know? What has she told him? What does he really want?' 

After a moment, Severus said through clenched teeth, "I am very busy, Mr. Potter. Go away." 

"Sir, I just want to ask you how Hermione's doing in your sessions," said Harry, exasperated. "She tells me she's doing fine, but I wanted to hear from you. How is she? I mean, she's not herself, is she? I don't expect her to be after what happened to her, but I'm concerned about her." 

Hatred for this arrogant boy surged through Severus. 'Masking his meddling with concern for an injured friend,' he thought, 'How dare he?' 

"She's doing well under the circumstances," Severus consented to say. "She faces more than you ever could imagine. If this had happened to the famous Harry Potter, the whole of the wizarding world would be swooping about demanding vengeance. You would have been delivered to the finest medical minds of our world. The humble Miss Granger gets to suffer in silence with me as her only help. What do you think you can _possibly_ you do for her? She was likely targeted because of _you_ - don't you think you've done enough?" His last words were chilling and full of venom. 

"Blame me for the world's ills as usual," said Harry, fighting to keep his cool. "_I_ didn't design this potion. I just want to help_ my _friend." He had probably pushed a bit too far, and he braced himself for the wrath which would no doubt erupt. 

Severus blanched. So she had told him. This was not welcome news. He wanted to get rid of Potter as quickly as possible, but the only way would be to give him an answer. "There is nothing you can do. There is little any of us can do," Severus said quietly. "Be assured, Mr. Potter, I _am_ doing everything I can for her, in spite of what you might think." 

"If there ever is something I can do for her, will you at least let me know?" Harry said, his arms folded in resignation and anger. 

Severus met Harry's earnest gaze and nodded his head stonily. "Now, get out of my classroom, Mr. Potter. You'll be late for dinner." 

Harry turned away in disgust. 'Poor Hermione,' he thought. 'To be saddled with that wretch. She's too forgiving by half.' He had promised Hermione that he wouldn't tell Ron or anyone else about Snape's involvement with the Elixir, and it was a promise he intended to keep. But the knowledge gave him even more reasons to hate the man. 

----------------------------------------- 

The weeks before Christmas holidays were busy for Hermione. Having more classes made her quite tired. She took naps every day, and she went to bed earlier every night due to sheer fatigue. But she was getting through each day, and that was what was most important to her. Her grades were not suffering, and she was able to do her assignments and homework with her previous ease. She simply wasn't going above and beyond as she used to do. This made her feel guilty, but not guilty enough to push herself into feeling more tired. 

Her healing sessions with Professor Snape were going surprisingly well. They had fallen into a pattern of working for twenty minutes and then breaking for a ten or fifteen minutes before continuing. Snape had insisted on this, even when she was feeling energized and able to keep going. The first break had been an awkward affair; they had sat in uncomfortable silence for ten excruciatingly long minutes. Hermione had nothing to do but go over her notes and read from the medical research, while Severus had pushed student papers about on his desk, not really able to concentrate enough on grading them. The next time, Severus made them both chamomile tea and attempted to discuss the weather. When this failed miserably, he brought out the newest _Ars Alchemica_ for Hermione to peruse. By the next session, Hermione was asking questions about certain articles in the journal, and as this was a safe topic, he freely answered. Soon he found that he enjoyed having intellectual discussions with her. She could certainly hold her own, and her opinions, while naive at times, were refreshing. 

When the last week of school before the holiday break arrived, Hermione found herself being challenged more than she had been to date. On Monday, she walked down to the dungeons with none of the old nervousness. This time with Professor Snape had become, if not a highlight of the school day, then at least part of her normal routine. He had lent her a back issue of _Ars Alchemica_ over the weekend, and she had found an intriguing article on Protection potions she wanted to ask him about. She was enjoying Potions class more than she ever had before. She had finally told Neville as kindly as possible that she wouldn't be able to help him in class anymore. She had even gone so far as to switch work tables. Without Neville's frantic pleas for help distracting her every moment, she was able to concentrate on the work she did. It was rather exciting actually, seeing the changes she could effect with ingredients and skill. Professor Snape had stopped watching her for missteps, but he was still watching her like a hawk. Every now and then she would catch him watching her with a raised eyebrow, which she took to mean "Are you feeling all right, Miss Granger?" Since she usually was feeling fine, she would nod her head slightly in response. She was glad he was concerned, but since it was Snape, it was a bit strange. Then again, her whole life had turned into a parade of strangeness, so what was one more bit of oddness? 

She persisted with all her energy to overcome her brain damage. She had been practicing Supero every day, but she had not yet mastered it. Professor Snape had taught her some focusing methods that she was finding helpful, but not totally effective. Her Potions skills were virtually intact, but third year level Transfiguration and fourth year level Charms were confounding her, much to her dismay. She had gone to Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick about setting up private tutoring once school began again. She was scheduled to resume both of their classes after the break, and she didn't want to look a fool in either of them. 

"Good afternoon, Professor," she called as she entered the classroom and put her book bag down beside her usual work table. 

"How are you feeling today, Miss Granger?" asked Severus as walked over to her. He observed her closely, watchful for any signs of undue strain. He knew that the extreme difficulty she was experiencing with the two subjects she loved was taking a toll, mentally and physically. Her nose had bled slightly after performing a fairly simple Transfiguration the week before, and this had worried him greatly. 

"I'm fine. I had a nice weekend, even though I passed on the Hogsmeade visit. Harry and Ron stayed with me. They went with me to practice flying, which I've never been too keen on. But since Apparating may be difficult now... " she trailed off, and her face fell a bit. 

"Very practical, Miss Granger," Severus said quickly. "Did they force you to play Quidditch as well?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For the love of Merlin, of course they did. I actually got a Quaffle through a goal, though. They want to recruit me as an alternate Chaser now." She laughed at the absurdity of her playing Quidditch. 

"Well, you never know, Miss Granger, you might enjoy the change. And we all know that Team Gryffindor needs all the help it can get." 

"Professor Snape, I might have had fun flying around for an afternoon, but I barely enjoy watching Quidditch, let alone playing it. Did _you_ ever play?" she said, in a challenging tone of voice. 

"Oh yes," said Severus, and then changed the subject. "Time is wasting, Miss Granger. Show me how your Supero is coming along." 

Although she very much wanted to hear more about Snape and Quidditch - the two images were meshing in her head about as well as oil meshed with water - she readied her wand. "Shall I try an Accio charm?" Accio was coming along better than many of the other charms. 

"Certainly. Whatever you prefer," he replied. 

"All right then," she said. She centered herself and began breathing deeply. In her mind, she saw the large book on Snape's desk fly through the air at her command. She pointed her wand at herself and called out "Supero!" She knew that eventually she should be able to just whisper the word or say it in her head, but she wasn't ready for that yet. She opened her eyes, pointed her wand at the book, and commanded "Accio book." The book jerked into the air and then smoothly swished over to her. Then it clumsily skidded to a landing on the table in front of her. She looked up with a smile. 

"Still lacking in control, but better, Miss Granger," Severus said coolly, "Supero is working much better for you, I'm glad to see. You've been practicing." 

"I've had to. My broom wouldn't lift into the air yesterday until I'd done it five times. But I was able to fly finally." 

"That's good to hear. You're making steady progress. Do you think you're ready for some more Transfiguration today?" 

"Not really," she said, gritting her teeth, "but I'll do it anyway." Transfiguration hurt, plain and simple. The ache in her head would flare and wouldn't go away until she'd taken her next dosage of pain drops. She hadn't mentioned it yet because the ache wasn't unbearable. It was just uncomfortable. She could handle it. 

Severus regarded her for a moment. He admired her tenacity, but he had a feeling she was hiding something from him. He hoped he wasn't pushing her too hard. Then again he didn't want to coddle her or enable her to feel she shouldn't, or couldn't, do these things. "Miss Granger, you will tell me if you feel discomfort, won't you? It's one thing to be courageous, but it's quite another to be foolishly brave. I only emphasize this because Gryffindors tend to lean towards the latter." 

"I'll tell you," Hermione lied, annoyed by the Gryffindor remark. 

"Very well. There is one item left on Professor McGonagall's list of important third year Transfiguration spells." He conjured a tea kettle. "Please transform this kettle into a turtle." 

Hermione checked in her Transfiguration book for the specific incantation. Her recall was still poor when dealing with abstract magic. She readied herself, visualized with Supero, and then performed the Transfiguration. When she pointed her wand at the kettle, she felt a sharp pain twinge deep inside her brain. She gasped, but then bit her lip to keep from crying out. Luckily, it looked like Professor Snape thought she had been gasping at the results of the Transfiguration. The turtle had turned out to be mostly kettle. 

"Miss Granger, don't be so disappointed," he said shortly, "This was a... reasonable effort. Transfiguration remains your greatest challenge. Let's move on to some charms. We'll return to this after your break." 

"No," Hermione said, "I'm trying this one again." Her head was hurting, but it wasn't going to keep her from doing this stupid third year spell that even Neville had gotten right eventually. She would just need to focus on the Supero a bit harder. "Would you please change the turtle back to a kettle for me?" 

Severus did as she asked, although he had misgivings. She repeated the steps, and this time when she aimed her wand at the kettle, it turned into a turtle. She would have smiled broadly if the pain in her head hadn't been suddenly blinding. She did manage to look up at Professor Snape with a twisted grin. "There, you see? It just took a bit more effort," she managed to say. The pain was lessening a bit, but she felt dizzy and sick. She sat down on her stool as the world went a bit fuzzy around the edges. 

Severus was startled. He could tell that the spell had caused quite a bit of pain for all Hermione's efforts to pretend it hadn't. What was most alarming was the blood trickling out of her left nostril in a steady flow. She hadn't seemed to notice yet. "Miss Granger, your nose is bleeding again. And I see now that you have had some fibbing practice along with your flying." He went over to his desk and took out a vial of Standard Nose Bleed Remedy from the first aid kit. 

She held her handkerchief firmly to her nose. It was bleeding freely now. "The pain isn't _that_ bad. Well, it hasn't been, really, but it was just now. Usually it just aches for a bit. I'm a little nauseous, but other than that, I'm okay." He handed her the vial, and she drank it. The blood stopped flowing. "But look, the turtle looks like a turtle, and that's all that really matters," she said a bit too brightly. 

"No, Miss Granger," Severus said in that quiet yet deadly tone of his, "that's not all that matters. While we can expect some pain with any rehabilitation, severe pain can mean you are damaging your body further. You must be honest with me about your symptoms. If nothing else, I can adjust your pain drops to better address the specific pain. Do I make myself clear?" 

"Yes, Sir, you do," she said. "I... I just wanted to get past the pain and keep recovering without anymore fuss." 

"That is called denial, Miss Granger. It's perfectly normal, but in this case it could lead to serious consequences." Severus sighed. "I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing in your place. We overachievers tend to do foolish things at times. _Please_ keep me informed in the future." 

"I will, Sir," Hermione said softly. Then she pointed towards the far end of the table. "Sir, the turtle's going to crawl off the table." She should have felt triumphant over succeeding with the spell, but she felt depressed over having to deal with the reality of the pain again. Now that Snape knew how she was actually feeling, she would probably have to go at an even slower pace than she had been. 'Reality is overrated,' she thought miserably. 


	11. Regaining Chapter 11: Receive

**Regaining by Vivien B.**

**Chapter 13: Receive**

****_Receive - 2. to undergo; submit to; suffer: as, he received punishment. 6. to get knowledge of; learn; as, she received the news. _

__Disclaimer: All characters except for Agent Eleanor Cronin are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am just borrowing them_._

_----------------------------------------_

Severus was not a morning person. In fact, he considered rising early a part of his life's punishment - a deserved, but horrid fate. But today was Thursday morning, and there would be only one more morning before the holiday break. The holiday break... peace, quiet, and sleeping when you wanted. He sighed, tried to concentrate on his lesson notes, and took a sip of his second cup of strong black tea. Logical thinking at this hour was always difficult for him, and so he was taken quite aback when a fire appeared in his office's fireplace. A moment later, Dumbledore's head appeared in the flames. "Severus, I need to see you in my office. It is a matter of some urgency." 

"Yes, right away, Sir," replied Severus baffled. He strode to the fireplace and took a pinch of Floo Powder from a container on the mantle. He threw it into the fire and then stepped into the hearth. "Dumbledore's office," he said, and with a disorienting pull, he found himself in the Headmaster's office. As he stepped away from the fireplace and looked around the room, the forgotten tea cup in his hand fell and shattered. Severus didn't notice. Before him was a face from the past, a face he had hoped he would never see again. 

"Severus, I trust you remember Agent Cronin of the Department of Mysteries?" asked Dumbledore, indicating the witch occupying one of the office arm chairs. 

"Of course I do," said Severus in a hoarse whisper. 

"Good morning, Snape," said Agent Cronin, with a snort of laughter, "What's wrong - looks like you've just seen a ghost." She looked almost as she had the last time he'd seen her, sixteen years ago. She was lounging comfortably with her feet resting upon a newly conjured ottoman. She was a compact woman, petite but _much_ stronger than she looked. Her hair was white and very short, and her gray eyes glittered from her wrinkled face. He guessed that she must be around Minerva's age, or perhaps older, but she could probably still run rings around him with her vast supply of energy. Her robes were black and sleek, not unlike Quidditch robes. On her collar was a small, red question mark insignia that indicated her status as an Unspeakable. 

When Severus had come to Dumbledore that night long ago, he had not expected mercy, but he had found it. He had been offered a chance to do something about Voldemort, and he had been relieved to take it. Instead of calling the Aurors, Dumbledore had contacted the Department of Mysteries. Severus had been processed through the Department instead of through Azkaban, but by the time he had been thoroughly interrogated and then schooled by this woman, he had wondered whether Azkaban would have been the better of the two. She was ferocious in her search for the truth, and she was willing to do whatever she had to do to get it. He couldn't imagine what she would have been like if he had been unwilling to cooperate. To her credit, he had been fully prepared in the tactics, concentration, and practical skills of being a spy when she had finished with him. He had also been assured of the fact that should he ever so much as hint to be truly serving Voldemort again, she would bring her wrath down upon him full force, no matter how much Dumbledore pleaded his case. Her last words to him still echoed in his mind. "If you do fail," she had hissed in his ear with a smile, "I will take the utmost pleasure in destroying you, you arrogant brat." It didn't take brilliance to infer why she was here. 

"Severus, Agent Cronin is here on official business," said Dumbledore, who did not appear troubled in the least. "It seems that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has seen fit to pass Hermione Granger's poisoning investigation along to the Department of Mysteries. Agent Cronin would like to speak with you further about the Leeching Elixir." 

"Don't worry, my boy," Agent Cronin said with a mischievous grin on her face, "You're not under any suspicion... yet. I wanted to come to the source of this new weapon in Voldemort's arsenal to get the information we need to fight it." 

Severus cringed. She had always called him "my boy". She knew he despised it, and as she had reminded him on a daily basis for a month, she thought it was a good way to bring him down a peg. He didn't reply, but he nodded. 

"Oh, you might want to clean that up there," she said, gesturing with her wand to the broken tea cup beside him. "It's always a good idea to clean up your own messes." 

With a slice of his wand, Severus had repaired the cup and removed the stain on the carpet. "Yes, _Ma'am_, I've learned that the hard way," he said through clenched teeth. 

"Well, well, still prickly, are you?" she taunted. "I seem to recall a time when that facade couldn't protect your tender feelings." She turned to Dumbledore, "Sir, I expect I'll be here for a week or two at the least. I trust I can have guest rooms near Slytherin quarters?" 

"Why?" replied Snape bitterly, "So you can keep a better watch on me?" 

"Partly that, my boy," she said, "and partly for nostalgia." 

"Agent Cronin was in Slytherin House when she was at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, unruffled by the tension in the room. "You were Head Girl in your year, weren't you?" 

"Oh yes, Sir, but that was a long time ago indeed," she said laughing. "Now, as for you -- " she pointed at Severus. "I expect you have classes today, but I'll want to speak with you tonight. I'd also like to have a full written report from yourself and from the victim by the end of the holidays. Do you think she can write a report? Or will writing the events down on parchment be too much of a trauma?" She said the last in a sneer. Agent Cronin had little patience for the weak. 

"Miss Granger will be up to the task," Severus said. "She has shown formidable courage and perseverance in the time I've worked with her." 

"Gryffindor, isn't she," said Agent Cronin, glancing at a piece of parchment on the end table. "That's one thing in her favor at least." She looked him up and down. "I warrant she does have some courage if she's working alone with you, for - what is it, two hours a week? I can see you've remembered well your lessons in the 'don't suffer fools lightly' department. I hear horror stories about the Hogwarts Potion Master from the staff's children on a regular basis. Good on you. We must turn out wizards and witches with strong backbones." 

"Indeed," he muttered. 

"You'll find that Miss Granger is a most worthy, and most brave, student," said Dumbledore. "She's a credit to Hogwarts, and she'll want to help the investigation in any way she can. Will you ask her to write an account of her experience from the beginning to the present, Severus?" 

"And I want to know everything, Snape," said Agent Cronin. "Memories of the Three Broomsticks, her treatment from _her_ perspective, all of it." 

"She is a thorough student. I'm sure she will be concise," said Severus, his stomach churning the tea he'd drunk. At least he was fully awake now. 

"Off with you then," she said, "I have some investigating to do. I'll be in your classroom later this afternoon." 

Dumbledore said, "Yes, Severus, you may go. Please remember, Agent Cronin knows where you stand, as do I. You have more than earned our trust." 

'Have I?' thought Severus. He quickly turned away with no farewell, throwing the Floo powder into the fire and saying "Snape's office." 

"Well, Eleanor, what do you think?" asked Dumbledore. 

"I think he's none too pleased to see me again," laughed Eleanor Cronin. "Other than that, I can tell he's not strayed. He's still one of ours. I had no doubt of that actually, but I needed to see for myself. He's still quite the brooder, isn't he?" 

"Oh yes, Eleanor, and this whole business has affected him even more than when he returned to spying for me. Hermione Granger is a very special student, a highly gifted and genuinely pleasant young lady. She means a lot to all of us, even Severus. From what he has told me, she is making more progress than we dared hope, although she may have limited use of her power from now on." 

"A mess this is, and a fine one. I'll be most interested to get to the bottom of it," said Eleanor, rising to her feet. "Don't worry, I'll tread lightly on Severus. He was always one of my favorites. Well, Sir, would you like to come with me to start the investigation? Thought I'd begin at the Three Broomsticks." 

"No, Eleanor, I'll leave that in your capable hands. And by the way, you needn't call me Sir. We're not at the Ministry, after all, and I _am_ officially retired," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. 

---------------------------------------------------- 

"Yes!" exclaimed Hermione. She grabbed the work table as a wave of dizziness passed over her. She had transfigured the kettle into a turtle perfectly on the first try. Professor Snape had fine tuned her pain drops since Monday, and the sharp pain in her head had now dissipated into a slight pounding. She felt a small trickle of blood flowing down from her nose. "Damn it," she said annoyed, pulling out her handkerchief. "Professor Snape? Erm.. Sir?" 

Severus was staring out the window of the Potions classroom. He had seemed very distracted today. It struck Hermione as very odd, because he was usually attentive, even if he was being unpleasant. "Well, maybe he's anxious for the end of school,' she thought. 

"Professor Snape, I did it," she said a bit louder. 

"Hmm... " said Severus, turning towards her, "Excuse me, Miss Granger. I was... woolgathering. Oh, very good - no china pattern on the shell this time. How bad is the pain?" He picked up a quill and walked to a opened book on his desk. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. He had required her to start rating any pain she felt on a scale of one to ten. "I'd say it's about a five. I only felt a little dizzy, and the nosebleed has already stopped. I want to turn it back now. May I?" 

Severus raised an eyebrow, eyeing her for a moment. Hoping she wasn't lying about the intensity of the pain, he nodded. 

"Here goes," she said to herself, and she went through the steps of Supero and the Transfiguration. Reverse transfigurations tended to be more difficult, and sure enough the kettle continued plodding along the table when she was finished. Hermione groaned and sat down on her stool. She was feeling much more nauseous this time, but her nose didn't bleed. Her head on the other hand... 

"Pain rating?" Severus asked, berating himself for letting her try the reversal. 

"Oh.. a seven, I guess," she mumbled, rubbing her temples. 

"You guess or you know, Miss Granger? Please be more specific," he snarled. 

She glared at him. "I know, Professor Snape." She folded her arms and with her eyes dared him to continue questioning her. 

Severus passed a hand over his eyes. "Miss Granger, let's stop here for an early break. Would you please come to my office? I have a matter I need to discuss with you." 

Hermione's curiosity was piqued. She could tell that something big must be on his mind. He was never this distracted. She also wondered what on earth it could have to do with her. She followed him into his office and sat upon one of the most uncomfortable wooden chairs she had ever encountered. As she fidgeted in the seat for a more comfortable position, she cast her eyes about his office. She had only ever been in here once, and that was back in her second year when she had hurried in to steal the boomslang skin for the Polyjuice potion. The glass jars packing the shelves glistened with slime and unpleasant looking shadows, and there was a moldy, dusty smell encompassing the entire room. She gave up trying to find a comfortable position. 

"Would you like some tea, Miss Granger?" 

Hermione nodded her head. "Peppermint, please, Sir. I'm still a bit queasy from the reversal." 

"Certainly," said Severus, grimacing. "I shouldn't have let you do so much intense magic today. I've been... distracted." The kettle boiled immediately. He plopped tea bags into two tea cups, and then he dropped a scoop of powdered valerian root in his. He watched her shifting in the chair, and without a word, conjured cushions for the seat and back. 

"Thank you, Sir, that is much more comfortable," she said cheerily. He looked so pale and much more dour than usual, and before Hermione could stop herself, she asked, "Professor Snape, is something the matter?" 

Severus startled at her kind voice. It would be a comfort to tell someone the intense feelings he was experiencing. It would be nice not to be wracked with guilt. Since neither were going to happen, he changed the subject. "So Miss Granger, are you going home for the holidays?" 

Having learned not to press Snape early on, Hermione replied, "Yes, I am. I'm looking forward to having a holiday from... well, from everything." 

"Do you have a large family?" said Snape, knowing that for him, this was babbling, but feeling he'd rather talk of innocuous things than the Department of Mysteries. 

"No, not really. Mum, Dad, and an older brother. We're separated by thirteen years, though, so we're not really close," Hermione said. 

"How are your parents dealing with your injuries? As Muggles, I'm sure it's confusing and frustrating for them not to be able to help you more." 

Hermione laughed ruefully into her tea. "Oh, I don't plan to tell them anything. Ever since I started here, they've only gotten the highly censored version of 'Hermione's Life as a Witch'. I haven't even told them I was Petrified. What?" 

Severus was staring at her with a look on his face somewhere between astonishment and disapproval. "You are either very naive or very foolish to think that your parents have never been notified of your illnesses or injuries at school. Any time a student is admitted to the hospital wing, his or her parents are immediately sent an owl. You are no exception to the rule, Miss Granger. I myself have corresponded with your parents regarding your poisoning. Did you really think they would never know of the dangers you have so lightheartedly exposed yourself to in your previous years here? I mean to say, you were Petrified for months, and last year you and Potter were in the infirmary for three weeks after you traipsed through the Forbidden Forest. It would be irresponsible for the school not to notify your parents." 

Hermione's eyes were as wide as her cup's saucer. She sat, frozen with shock and horror, until she could find the words to speak. "But... but... they've never said anything about... They never seemed to know anything. I was just.. trying to protect them from the... the scary stuff in our world." 

"Or trying to protect yourself from being taken away from Hogwarts," said Severus shrewdly. "Oh, that has happened more than once - confused Muggle parents disenrolling their children because of things they couldn't understand in the wizarding world. Your parents are obviously more understanding than you give them credit." 

"But why wouldn't they have said anything?" said Hermione, a tinge of panic in her voice. 

"Maybe they were waiting for you to bring it up," he replied. 

The office went quiet. Hermione couldn't believe this. She had been hiding the truth from her parents all this time, and they had known all along about the dangerous situations she faced. This holiday was obviously not going to be a restful time of pretending things were fine. Then again, that pretending had always been exhausting, and it would almost be a relief to stop hiding important parts of her life from her parents. 'How could they have known and not asked?' she thought. 

"Miss Granger, in addition to ruining your charade of a carefree home life, I need to give you a... homework assignment, if you will," Severus began wearily after a few moments had passed. "The investigation of your poisoning has been handed over to the Department of Mysteries. Their representative here has asked for you to write a detailed account of everything you can recall from the day of your poisoning to the present. Details on your treatment are especially of interest. Now is your opportunity to get even with me." 

"Why would I want to do that?" Hermione asked, genuinely puzzled. 

Before Severus could reply, a figure appeared in the doorway. He was almost glad for the interruption, since once again he could not get over the capacity for forgiveness and trust the student before him possessed. Then he realized who it was at the door, and his stomach curdled. 

"Snape, my boy, I'm here as threatened," chortled Agent Cronin. "Ah, is this the victim, then?" 

Hermione looked at the small, mischievous looking woman in the doorway. She reminded her of Madame Hooch. She looked back to Snape, who had turned two more shades of pale, with a green tinge. Who was this strange person calling her 'the victim'? Then she noticed the question mark insignia on the woman's collar and realized that she was in the same room as an Unspeakable. They had met one last year, or seen one anyway. Following him been what had led Harry and her to make the ill fated expedition into the Forbidden Forest. 

"Her name is Hermione Granger," said Severus, in a furious tone. "She is anything but a victim." 

'Is he taking up for me?' thought Hermione in amazement. 

"Yes, yes, my boy," said Agent Cronin, "You needn't get hot under the collar. No disrespect was intended." She stopped in front of Hermione and outstretched her hand. "My name is Agent Cronin, Hermione. No doubt Professor Snape here has told you _all_ about me." 

Hermione shook her hand in rapt attention. "Well, no, he hasn't really. You're an Unspeakable, aren't you? You're here on the investigation?" 

"Right you are, Miss Granger," said Agent Cronin, transfiguring one of the hard back chairs into an overstuffed arm chair. "Have you asked her to write her account of the events, Snape?" 

"Yes," Severus said, staring into his tea. 

"Very good. Well, my dear," she said to Hermione, "I have business with your teacher, so I'll need to ask you to run along now." 

"We weren't finished with her healing session," protested Severus. 

"You are now," said Agent Cronin with a pleasant smile that looked as if it could turn unpleasant at any moment. 

Hermione was watching the two adults closely. She had never seen Professor Snape look so cowed by anyone. Surely he wasn't under investigation. "You know, Professor Snape has really helped me ever since I was poisoned," she blurted out, "I would've been lost without him." 

Agent Cronin looked her straight in the face. For a moment, all Hermione could focus on was her sparkling, gray eyes. It felt like they were seeing into her and through her. 

"Yes, child, I can see that," Agent Cronin said with a gentle smile. 

"I need to give Hermione her medications for the holiday break before she leaves," said Severus, standing up and clumsily leaving the office. "Excuse me for one moment." 

Agent Cronin watched him leave and chuckled. It was good to see that she had had such a lasting influence on her former pupil. She noticed Hermione watching her inquisitively. She was used to that as an Unspeakable. 

"Agent Cronin?" Hermione asked tentatively. She probably shouldn't be doing this, but she knew she'd regret passing up an opportunity like this. Agent Cronin looked at her kindly, as if anticipating what she was going to say. "I know you can't tell me what you do, but I was wondering... how does one become an Unspeakable? I was thinking of becoming an Auror, but with my condition as it is, I'm thinking I need to have other options. What courses are recommended? Do you need a certain number of N.E.W.T.'s?" 

Agent Cronin hadn't quite expected this particular question. "Well, child, typically prospective candidates are identified for training in their last year of school. Grades aren't really of importance, although good marks are nice to have in our line of work. A quick way we recruit is by this: tell me what I'm thinking." 

Hermione was a bit confused by this, but the older woman's gray eyes were on hers again, shutting out the rest of the world around her. Try as she might, she couldn't see a thought or hear a word. "Nothing, Ma'am, I can't tell," she said disappointedly. 

"Well then, dear, don't fret," said Agent Cronin softly, "Unspeakables are a rare breed. You'll find a way to fight Voldemort that will suit your strengths. You'll be most formidable when you find your correct path." 

Severus walked back into the office with two stoppered bottles. "You haven't been alarming my student with.. stories of the past, have you, Agent Cronin?" he said darkly. 

"How paranoid of you, my _dear_ boy," she replied. 

Severus ignored her as best he could, which to be truthful, was not very well. Turning to Hermione, he said, "This will be enough of both of your potions for the remainder of the holidays. You must keep on schedule with the Magnifying potion, but since you shouldn't be doing magic, you shouldn't need the pain drops. Get some rest, Miss Granger. And do speak with your parents; it will do you all good to not have secrets between you." 

"I'll try, Sir," she said. "Nice to meet you, Agent Cronin." Hermione picked up the potion bottles. "I'll send our owl to you with my report, as soon as I finish, Professor Snape." 

Hermione walked to the doorway, aware of the tension simmering in the room she was leaving. She turned back and smiled at Professor Snape, who was looking sicker by the minute. "Um.. Happy Christmas, Professor Snape. I hope you have a nice holiday." 

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he replied, with no feeling. Then with a quick glance towards Agent Cronin, he said, "Happy Christmas to you as well." He looked so sad when he said this that Hermione wished she could order him to go to the Tranquillity Parlor as Dumbledore had. It looked like he needed something drastic to help his mood. 

When she had gone, Agent Cronin said, "You were right. She's a strong one. Smart as a whip, as well. You know, Snape, I don't plan on torturing you or causing any more pain than you already allot yourself. I simply need to ascertain the truth. I requested this assignment because _I_ knew your whole story. Others would not be so kind, even with Dumbledore protecting you." 

"I realize that," he said sharply. "Can you just get on with it?" Severus sank back into his desk chair. This would likely be the least Happy Christmas he had faced in many a year. 


	12. Regaining Chapter 12: Resolve

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 14: Resolve**

****_Resolve - 2. to change; transform. 4. to determine; reach a decision. 5. To solve or explain_

Author's note: Thanks as always to Aspen for her help. Agent Cronin will probably have her own story one of these days; she's making a brief appearance in this one. I hope the Mr. Dumbledore doesn't bother anyone. I figure that that's what Muggles would call someone like Dumbledore if he didn't have a Dr. in front of his name. For Hermione's parents to call him Professor or Headmaster seemed a bit wrong. Thanks for being patient with my slowness in updating. This time the delay was due to my muse preferring the Olympics :) 

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Hermione's parents greeted her warmly on the Muggle platform between Platforms 9 and 10 of Kings Cross Station. She noticed that they didn't ask her how things were going at school. Instead they'd simply asked her how she was feeling. The family dropped Crookshanks off at home and then went to Hermione's favorite Muggle restaurant for a welcome home dinner. Hermione had forced out semi-truths of jolly school stories until she'd lost her appetite. Denying took a lot of energy that she didn't have. She had thought she wouldn't say a word to her parents about the last few months, but she quickly became aware of the subtle, worried glances directed towards her and the silences which would hang between them for uncomfortable moments. Back in her bedroom as she unpacked, she tried to work out how she would tell her parents why she'd been withholding the truth all these years. 

Hermione went downstairs and peeked around the door of the Granger living room. "Mummy? Daddy? Can I talk to you a minute?" 

Olivia Granger looked up from the journal she was reading to see her obviously unwell daughter standing at the door. "Of course, dear, what is it?" she said warmly, even as she was thinking 'I should've found a way to go to her, no matter what.' Hermione's father, William, put down his newspaper, shifting in his chair and hoping Hermione was about to let them into her life fully. The Grangers had tried to be understanding in the years since Hermione received her acceptance letter to Hogwarts. They had gone to public schools as well, and they knew that school and home quickly became two separate places in one's heart. They were still disheartened when they realized Hermione didn't want them to know the full details of her life. She had always shared with them before, and they had always felt close to her. She did share a great deal about school, but it was the censored version. Nevertheless her parents had decided that if Hermione didn't bring up her poisoning during the holidays, they would. 

Hermione walked into the room and sat down by her mother on the couch. "I found out that you know about what's happened to me," Hermione said in a small voice, looking down at her hands. "I'm.. I'm sorry I never told you about it, or about anything dangerous in the magical world. I was afraid you might not let me go back if you knew how dangerous it could be. I couldn't have stood that. I'm sorry." 

Her mother immediately moved towards her, wrapping her arms around Hermione. "My sweet angel, we wouldn't have kept you from school," she crooned, "We know how happy going there and being a part of that world makes you." 

Her father had come to sit beside her. "I was saddened at first when you didn't share with us the scary things you were going through," he said. "But I remember keeping things from my parents at your age, too. Of course, I was never turned to stone by a... what was it again?" 

"A basilisk, Daddy," said Hermione through her tears. "I felt _so_ badly when Professor Snape told me you'd known all along. I didn't want you to know about my... my poisoning, because I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect myself, too. I wanted to come home and pretend it never happened." She buried herself in her mother's arms. 

Hermione's parents exchanged a look over her head. William and Olivia Granger knew that their daughter's world was one they would never understand, but they tried. As that pleasant Mr. Dumbledore always said, "parents of non-magical heritage" faced unique difficulties raising a witch or wizard. Unless given access to places like Diagon Alley through special charms, Muggle parents were excluded from most of their children's lives. In his newsletters to the parents and his annual home visits, Mr. Dumbledore had explained quite a bit about the wizarding community and had given the Grangers much advice as to how to adjust to the changes in their daughter's life. He had even arranged for Hermione to enchant an owl to be kept at their home so the Grangers could write Hermione when they wanted. But what had happened in October had almost been too much for them to bear. They knew something was terribly wrong when Mr. Dumbledore had shown up at their door unannounced. He and the head of Hermione's house made a home visit once a year to answer questions and give Muggle parents insight into their children's learning experiences. As a result, the Grangers knew who Voldemort was and what was happening with the increase of terror in their daughter's world. When Mr. Dumbledore had told them as gently as possible what had happened that night, they had felt angry, horrified, and extremely frustrated. Olivia had demanded that she be taken to Hermione's side at once, but Mr. Dumbledore had sadly reminded her that Muggles could not enter Hogwarts, even with special charms. William had offered several options, including bringing his daughter home to a London hospital. He could not believe there was nothing they could do to help their own child. The three of them had debated and, on Olivia's part, argued, late into the night, but the Granger's reluctantly came to the conclusion that Hermione should stay at Hogwarts. Mr. Dumbledore had assured them that the Hogwarts hospital matron was highly qualified to care for their daughter in the immediate aftermath of the poisoning, and afterwards, a most capable researcher of poisons who taught at the school would be the best choice to assist Hermione with her rehabilitation. Mr. Dumbledore also quietly asked if Hermione had been forthcoming with her previous injuries. When the Grangers had replied in the negative, Mr. Dumbledore suggested that staying at Hogwarts might be preferable to Hermione as well. Being satisfied that the wizarding equivalent of Scotland Yard was investigating the crime, William and Olivia realized there was not much they could do for their child, other than wait for her to share the experience with them and help her emotionally as only parents can. Mr. Dumbledore frequently corresponded with them regarding Hermione's recovery, and they had been greatly relieved by the letters from the professor helping Hermione. He seemed quite knowledgeable and optimistic for her recovery, and his correspondence was detailed and informative. Still, the Grangers wanted to hear how Hermione was feeling from her own point of view. 

"My sweet, it's best to never hide from the truth." said William, patting her back. "It did happen, and we know how your life has been turned upside down. We've been so worried about you. There's nothing we can do to protect you from Voldemort, but we're glad you've told us what you're up against." 

Hermione lifted her head, her tear streaked face registering shock. She looked from her mother to her father and back again. "How do you know about V-Voldemort?" 

"Your Headmaster believes in keeping Muggle parents in the loop," said her mother, "and I'm glad for it. You needn't protect us, Hermione. We can handle the facts about your world." 

"Dumbledore told you? How?" Hermione asked, still bewildered. 

"He and your Head of House -Mrs. McGonagall, is it? - make yearly visits, and your Headmaster sends out a newsletter every month," said her father. "So you see, we know a bit about your life." 

Hermione was dumbfounded. How could she have gone all these years assuming her parents were blissfully ignorant? 

"Not only do we know some of the ins and outs of your society, we're often quite envious," continued Olivia, stroking Hermione's hair. "Flying on brooms, seeing real unicorns, knowing magic is flowing through you, ready to be used at your bidding. It's really exciting, Hermione, and I'm proud that you can be part of that world, even if there are nasty and dangerous things lurking around the edges." 

"But that's just it," said Hermione, crying again, "my magic is damaged. I might not get all of it back. And to be a Muggle-born witch with reduced magical powers is not a pleasant fate. I don't suppose Dumbledore's told you about the racism in the wizarding world?" Her tone was sarcastic and bitter, and quite normal for a teenager. 

"Actually, dear, he has told us," said Olivia smoothly. "He also said that you appear able to deal with the negative attitudes of others in a dignified and effective way." 

"It makes us angry and sad, sweetie, but racism is part of the Muggle world, too," said William. "So is danger. All parents worry about the everyday dangers that might touch their children. The dangers you encounter are slightly more exotic, but you'd face frightening things even if you weren't a witch. Your teacher, Mr. Snape, tells us in every letter how pleased he is with your progress." 

Hermione snorted at that. "It's _Professor_ Snape, Daddy, and I'm glad _he's_ pleased, but _I'm_ not. I'll never be able to do the things I hoped I would do. My life is going to be useless." She was whining now, and she knew it. 

"Do _not_ ever say that again, Hermione Granger," said Olivia firmly. "Your father and I did not raise a quitter." 

"Hermione, you've been badly injured," said William. "It's going to take time for you to mend. The passage of time may seem impossibly long, but my dear girl, you're only sixteen. You have a long time to go before you can give up." 

"You are the most special girl in the whole world," said Olivia, hugging her tightly. "You are our shining star, and nothing will ever be able to dim you. We love you very much, and we'll always be here for you." 

"I love you, too," she murmured, snuggling against her mother and closing her eyes. She felt her father's hand smoothing her back and realized how comforted they always made her feel. She should have talked to them sooner. Sitting in between her loving, supportive parents, she felt as if she had just woken up from a bad dream. If she could feel this way all the time, she wouldn't doubt herself. Maybe things would be all right after all. 

--------------------------------------------------------- 

Severus had planned on using part of his holiday to do research at the Ministry's Library in London. With an official investigation by the Department of Mysteries in progress, he instead found himself stuck at Hogwarts for interminable rounds of questioning and scrutiny. Actually, things were not going as badly as he had dreaded. Aside from the occasional dig, Agent Cronin was not being as beastly as he remembered. She hadn't even formally interrogated him; she had merely asked questions. Dumbledore had been present at most of these inquiries, which Severus greatly appreciated. Christmas was over, and with it the always unpleasant Christmas dinner. Attendance at the Christmas meal was something Dumbledore insisted upon, and Severus dutifully went each year. Potter and Weasley were there as usual, and as an extra added bonus, Agent Cronin showed up as well. Not surprisingly, she commandeered the gathering with anecdotes and her usual overblown persona. He ignored the holiday prattle as well as he could, and as soon as dinner had ended, he slipped down to his dungeon living quarters. A barn owl had been waiting for him in his office. Hermione had sent her completed report and included a Christmas card addressed to him. He didn't open the report - better for Agent Cronin to do that - but he did open the card. It was a Muggle card with a still picture of a snow scene. Inside was a short note which read "Dear Professor Snape, Happy Christmas. I hope everything is okay. I had that talk with my parents. Things went really well. Sincerely, Hermione Granger." He smiled as he set the card on his mantle. He had never received a Muggle card. It was odd to not see the snow falling, but he liked the picture all the same. He wondered how much debate she had gone through deciding whether or not to send it. He also wondered how she was feeling. Hopefully, she was having a nicer time than he was. 

A few days after Christmas, Agent Cronin wound the investigation down. From mental images she'd lifted during interviews with witnesses, including Harry and Ron, she had a few leads on the perpetrators of the crime. She had to admit, the temptation to search young Potter's memories for information on Voldemort had been devilishly strong, but she had restrained herself. Unspeakables took a sacred oath to never rummage through a mind. That tended to have unfortunate complications for the mind being searched, and it was unethical besides. She had been pleased to read Miss Granger's report. It was thorough indeed, reaching six feet of parchment in length and detailing everything the child remembered, along with several glowing comments on Severus's efforts to help her. Eleanor had been pleased to thoroughly document Severus's innocence in the entire matter. She had watched herself with him, being careful not to goad him too much, even though he so invited a good teasing with his dour, moody manner. She had taken a quick peek inside him during her first questioning, and she'd sensed the guilt and worry churning within him. It wasn't quite the tumultuous emotional state she had first seen in him, and the pure arrogance and hatred that formally entwined his psyche were mostly absent. She'd noted how hard he'd worked at brewing better medicaments for Hermione Granger, as well as how tirelessly he searched for the make up of the Elixir and researched possible antidotes. Eleanor was pleased to see the growth he'd made from the haughty pup she'd had to break those many years ago. 

When Eleanor entered the Potions classroom, Severus greeted her with stony silence. He was working at diluting the mystery element in an attempt to discern any identifying markers. He was not in the mood for a visitor. 

"And a good day, to you, as well," said Eleanor, trying not to laugh out loud. She stopped right in front of him. 

Severus sighed in exasperation. "To what do I owe this intrusion, Agent Cronin? You haven't scheduled any questioning today, and I'm busy." To underscore his point, he poured a drop of dragon's blood into the dilution, resulting in a large cloud of acrid steam which billowed from the vial. 

"I came to bid you a fond farewell, my boy," she said, waving away the fumes with her wand. "My business here is concluded after I ask for one more favor. I need a sample of the Elixir to take back to the Department of Mysteries Potion Laboratory. Not implying that you aren't capable of deciphering it yourself, but Lobelia Easterling has been alerted and has some ideas about tracing the unknown element." 

Severus sneered angrily. He figured it would come to this, but it still infuriated him. Lobelia Easterling was one of the best potion brewers in Britain - besides himself, of course. He had assisted her for a time when he was being trained by the Unspeakables. He reached for the smallest vial he could find, poured a few drops of the recovered Elixir into it, and stoppered it. He handed it to here and then returned to his work. 

"You know, Severus, Lobelia is very good at what she does, but we can always use good thinkers," said Eleanor, peering at him from the corner of her eye. "You'd be an asset to our Department." 

"Thank you, but I am free from intrusions here at Hogwarts," he replied resentfully. "I don't care to be under more scrutiny than I am already." 

"My official report clears you of any wrongdoing, Severus," said Eleanor, seriously. "And you know that my word will be sufficient for anyone at the Ministry. If you are called by Voldemort, you will let me know immediately through the proper channels if you hear anything further?" 

"Of course I will," said Severus, taken aback by her words. He hadn't expected to be cleared, not with Cronin in charge. She had always seemed to despise him so, and now she was clearing his name and asking him to work in the secret potions laboratory. This was all very odd, to say the least. 

"Well, that's all then. If you ever get tired of being a nursemaid for the future potion brewers of Britain, consider joining our laboratory. I wasn't joking." 

"I'm.. happy at Hogwarts," said Severus. "It's home to me." 

"Plus you have a mighty protector here, eh?" said Eleanor. "Well, my boy, believe it or not, but if you were in my Department, you'd have a protector there as well. I have... a confession to make. You were under my protection during your training for a reason. I took one look inside your mind and saw a soul worthy of redemption under all the mire. To get to that glimmering prize, I had to be harsh - harsher than I wanted to be. I know you hate me still for how I treated you. But I got though to you in the end, didn't I? Sounds a bit like how you teach your charges, doesn't it?" She smiled. "We are Slytherins after all, and we both know that sometimes the end justifies the means. I'm proud of you, my boy. I always have been. Now, I'll take my leave before you overdose on the maudlin sweetness of this touching scene." She turned to go. 

"Agent Cronin," called Severus quickly, trying to process these rare words of praise. She stopped and looked back at him. Severus didn't know what to say next. Thank you didn't seem right. Neither did a cutting remark. "Happy New Year, Agent Cronin," he finally settled with. "I'll contact you if I hear anything." 

"Take care, Severus. And take care of Miss Granger - she has incredible potential, in spite of her injuries. Happy New Year." With that, Agent Cronin left Severus's classroom for the last time. 

---------------------------------------------------------------- 

On New Year's Eve, Hermione's family stayed up for the chimes of Big Ben to ring in 1997. Hermione's brother and his fiancee, Patty, had come for a visit, and the lot of them had played board games, laughed, and snacked on healthy treats well into the night. Hermione had been having a wonderful time at home. William and Olivia were pleased to see that their daughter was laughing again, and the strained look on her face had gone. They'd taken extra time off work and made the rounds of all the museums Hermione had loved to go to as a child. Hermione escorted them into Diagon Alley, and William and Olivia once more were able to experience the wonder of the place. At Hermione's request, they had also taken Hermione to the family physician. She had been thoroughly examined under the pretense that she was having severe migraines. Her CAT scan came back normal. She was relieved that her injury was indeed magical in nature, and nothing else was wrong with her brain. She had finished her report for Agent Cronin with great care, and after much debate, decided to send Professor Snape a Christmas card as a gesture of appreciation. She was worried he might be in Azkaban when she returned to school. If he was taken away, she didn't know what she would do. True, he was still unpleasant most of the time, but when he worked with her, she made progress. She didn't know if anyone else could truly understand the poison's damage as well as Snape. At this thought, she chided herself that it had been only two months ago since she'd pleaded with Dumbledore to let her work with _anyone_ besides Professor Snape. 

Midnight had finally come, and the chimes of the clock announced the new year. Hermione resolved to overcome her injuries no matter what. She felt strong and capable, and nothing would stop her. 

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Severus was in London for New Year's Eve, and he was thoroughly annoyed. He had been staying at Ministry guest quarters while he spent days and nights at the Ministry Library looking for any information to help him solve the mystery of the new Leeching Elixir. He was determined to solve it before Lobelia did. So far, he'd come up with nothing of use. Tonight, to further vex him, the library had been closed early in order for the staff to join in the evening's revelry. Severus hated revelry. The mass chaos of crowds reminded him too much of the Dark Revels he'd been required to attend. The memories of those events had been firmly blocked out even before he had defected. He was now in his room, writing a colleague in Amsterdam. The Dutch Ministry had the largest research library in Europe, and Severus wondered if it would need to be his next stop. He almost hoped the Dark Lord would call him soon, so he could ferret out some information. He shuddered, and then his thoughts drifted to Agent Cronin and what she'd said to him. Was he really like her in the eyes of his pupils? He reckoned Longbottom must have as much fear and loathing towards him that he held for Cronin. He knew he was cruel. Maybe this year he would try not to be as cruel towards his students. He would be stern and strict, and he doubted he could ever be anything but venomous towards Potter, but maybe this year he would try to be less caustic. Or at the very least, he wouldn't purposefully make the Hufflepuffs, or Longbottom, cry. The bells of Big Ben were chiming twelve. Severus sighed. Another year stretched out before him. He wondered how Hermione Granger was. He knew she lived in London, and he hoped that she was feeling well this night. She deserved some peace and enjoyment after the horrors she'd been put through. He finished writing his letter, and he put it aside for posting in the morning. Moving a heavy, chained book to his desk, he got his quill ready to take any notes that might lead to him Hermione's cure. Severus resolved to do his utmost to help her overcome this tragedy. Nothing would stop him, not even the Dark Lord himself. 


	13. Regaining Chapter 13: Rebellious

**Regaining by Vivien**

**Chapter 13: Rebellious**

Author's Note: Just have to mention a great resource book I've been using forthe whole story. The Herb Book by John Lust has the best information on the traditional uses of more herbs than you can shake a wand at. It's been really helpful. Ergot is actually a migraine remedy, but it's very dangerous to use.****

****------------------------------------------------------------- 

_Rebellious - 1. resisting authority. 4. in medicine, difficult to treat._

__Hermione returned to school in an excellent state of mind. She promised to keep her parents updated regularly on how well she was doing. She was convinced she would finally push through the difficulty she was having and get back to grade level work in Transfiguration and Charms soon. She was eager to start her full schedule of courses. In addition to meeting with Professor Snape on Mondays and Thursdays, she would now have tutoring for thirty minutes with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick on Tuesdays and Wednesdays respectively. Hermione had made a difficult choice over the break which she hoped would help her busy schedule. She intended to resign as Prefect. She hoped she could still keep her private room, since Lavender and Pavarti showed no desire to be parted from the room they shared. One less responsibility would be a good thing, and she hoped it wouldn't look too badly on her record once she started her post-Hogwarts job search. Although at this point, Hermione had no idea what to do when finished Hogwarts. She knew what she couldn't do. A career as an Auror or an Unspeakable was clearly out of the picture. She knew what she didn't want to do. She didn't want to work as a clerk, a secretary, or as anything having to do with Quidditch. She figured she'd have some time to worry about it later. Right now her sole focus was getting better. 

------------------------------------------------------- 

Severus returned to school in a sour state of mind. It took roughly three class periods before he broke his new year's resolution to be less cruel to his students. 'But really,' he grumbled to himself, 'I can't be expected to smile and pat idiot children on the back when they wreak havoc in my classroom.' The resolution had gone down in flames when a Gryffindor third year, while trying to avoid a joke hex from a classmate, had bumped a large vial of dragon's blood off a shelf. It had crashed to the floor before Severus had been able to bring out his wand. A year's supply had seeped into the stone floor. Dragon's blood was very expensive, and as it began congealing, the thought of his classroom budget being squandered through this act of tomfoolery had been all it took to forget any notion of magnanimity. At least he had someone to disembowel horned toads and pickle scorpion brains for a full month now. 

Severus had also hit a brick wall in his research of the Leeching Elixir. He had poured through every volume that could possibly relate to Hermione's symptoms, hiding potion ingredients, or identifying potion ingredients. Amsterdam would have to be his next destination. He would have to apply for a clearance through both the English and Dutch Ministries, as he realized his search would have to continue in the Dark Magic archives. Amsterdam's research facilities were the only non-private libraries in Europe that had such an archive, but it was incredibly restricted. Severus frankly doubted that he would be granted permission to enter with his background, but he was going to try. He was excited about the possibility of visiting the archive. He was also a little terrified. He almost hoped his application would be denied, because the lure of the Dark Arts was strong. He had been addicted to it when he was a Death Eater. Kicking that habit had been hard and painful, and upon reflection, he understood better Agent Cronin's treatment of him. He hadn't used Dark Magic since his time in the Unspeakables detention and training center. Helping Hermione was his responsibility, and he would risk exposure to Dark Magic when or if the time came. 

Resuming Hermione's healing sessions had helped soothe his mind that first wretched day of class. She had been full of energy and optimism, which were usually combinations that annoyed him beyond belief in most humans in general. However, he thought her mood was quite... welcome. He had been pleased today to see her whip through a series of review charms with no pain or difficulty. She had been overjoyed with her success. During her usual break, she had told him what had she'd done over her holidays, and he found he didn't mind listening to her chatter as he sipped his tea. He was glad that she'd discovered her parents would be allies in her travails. Severus knew what not having parental care and support was like. The Grangers seemed pretty sensible, for Muggles. After the break, he continued with Charm work. She was performing new charms that were at fifth year level. He could tell she was fibbing when she said there was no pain at all - he had seen her grit her teeth briefly during a Reducing charm. However she seemed to be in excellent shape afterwards. Transfiguration would be not be as easy, he was certain. He was planning on coordinating both of her independent studies, and he was glad she would get more support with that particular subject. When they finished, Hermione left the classroom with a bounce to her step. Severus hoped that she was over the worst. He worried that she was not quite yet. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Thursday came and Hermione was starting to experience a little weariness. She was sneaking in a cat nap during lunch each day, but the restful state from the holidays had burned off almost completely. She'd brought chocolate covered espresso beans from home, and she was eating a few during the early afternoon when her eyes most wanted to close. They helped a little. Mostly, her mood was fine even though Transfiguration class was frustrating. Professor McGonagall would not allow her to attempt any of the actual Transfigurations. Luckily her class only contained fellow Gryffindors, and they made a point of not commenting on her lack of participation. She was working at a purely theoretical level, and what the class was studying was fascinating. It made her fairly frantic to watch everyone else practicing while she took notes from her text. Charms class was better. She still wasn't up to the current level of ability, but she was closing the gap. She was allowed to attempt one of the charms this week, at least. 

Today she knew she'd be working on Transfiguration. She and Professor McGonagall had practiced more visualization techniques to bolster her magic. She was keen to try them out. 

"Good afternoon, Professor. How are you today?" Hermione had noticed that Professor Snape had been almost cordial to her on Monday. She rather liked that. Of course, it might've been because he'd had an off day. 

"Well enough, Miss Granger," Severus replied, watching her closely for signs of pain and fatigue. "How are you feeling?" 

"You know, if I had a knut for every teacher who asked me that, I'd be quite well off by now." Hermione slung her satchel onto the work table, smiling. "I'm fine. A little bored in class since I can't actually do anything yet, but other than that things are super." 

Severus raised an eyebrow. 

"No really, I'm feeling good," Hermione protested under his scrutiny. "Okay, I am starting to get a little tired at the end of the day, but it's not anything out of the ordinary. I haven't had any headaches or nosebleeds." 

"If you say so, Miss Granger," said Severus. "But you will tell me if these symptoms reoccur, correct?" 

"Yes, Sir, I will," said Hermione wearily, "but I'm hoping they won't come back. I'm feeling much stronger than I have for a long time. Charms tutoring is going so well - did Professor Flitwick tell you I'm halfway through fifth year material?" 

"He did, and I'm as pleased as you are at the news," he said, his lips curling in the slightest of smiles. "Shall we begin? I'd like to do another brain scan to see how your healing is progressing." 

"No problem," she said cheerily, "I even brought my own quill to levitate." 

Moments later Hermione saw a beautiful thing. The brain scan showed more magical energy flowing through her damaged left side than ever before. There were still many barren patches, but there were thicker streams flowing over the entire parietal region now. Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth so she wouldn't scream in excitement. She looked at Professor Snape, who was actually smiling. 

"This looks most promising," he said. "Some significant healing has taken place in the last couple of weeks. Most probably it was due to having a long break from magic." He paused for a moment, and then frowned. "Perhaps we should reconsider your course of treatment. It might be better for you to take more time away from school and magic." 

"Oh no, I'm not taking more time off," said Hermione determinedly. "I've lost enough time as it is. And besides, I've been doing magic all week, including Charms, and I'm still healing." 

Severus didn't answer. On one hand, Hermione was a driven student who would not do well being held back, even to give her brain time to heal unencumbered. She had been performing well this week, and she was showing an impressive amount of improvement. Everything in his research of brain injury had pointed to continuous rehabilitation as an appropriate course of treatment. On the other hand, more total rest might be just what she needed. He would have to consult with Dumbledore. "I think we should proceed very slowly. I don't want you to further injure yourself because you're pushing too hard. I think perhaps I was premature in letting you resume your full class schedule." 

"Oh, now really, Sir, this is ridiculous," sputtered Hermione. "I mean to say, I feel fine. I'm doing my work with no problem. I'm getting better, for Merlin's sake. Please don't hold me back." 

"Miss Granger, you seem to forget that I am the adult in this situation," Severus said, eyes flashing. "If I say we send you home for the rest of term to heal, that is what will be done. I will do what is necessary for you to recover." 

Hermione took a deep breath and gritted her teeth. She would have to _show _Snape how well she was since he obviously wasn't going to take her word for it. "I appreciate your concern, Sir. Can we at least finish this session before you come to a decision? I was eager to try some new visualization techniques to complement the Supero charm." 

Severus hesitated a moment to think. A review of already mastered Transfigurations surely wouldn't hurt. He wasn't about to risk a relapse until he could do more research. He made a mental note to write the Healer at St. Mungo's he'd corresponded with for advice as well. "Very well, let's do a third year review. Transfigure this stick into an earthworm." He conjured a small stick onto the table before her. 

This time Hermione raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "I mastered that ages ago. Do you really want to waste my time with this? I could at least do the turtle into a teakettle - I need the practice." 

"Not as yet, Miss Granger," snapped Severus, "unless you want to take the full responsibility for a set back." 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh all right. I'll turn the stupid stick into an earthworm. Ooh, I hope I don't damage myself," she said snidely. She couldn't believe this. He was treating her like she was a weak invalid. A thought suddenly came to her. What if she tried something new, something harder instead? He wouldn't know until she'd finished, and that would show him how much better she was. She had been toying with the idea of trying some conjuring on her own anyway. At the beginning of the year, the class had conjured small objects like feathers and handkerchiefs out of thin air, and now they were conjuring more complex things like cushions and goblets. She decided to conjure a handkerchief. That would show him. She slipped into a state of intense concentration, visualizing every aspect of the plain, white handkerchief she wanted to bring forth. She cast Supero with her wand, and then pointed it into the air. The moment she summoned it to appear, she felt a rip of intense pain scream through her head, overwhelming her senses. She caught a glimpse of a nearly transparent square of cloth floating in the air, and then she saw nothing but blackness. 

Severus knew the moment she'd pointed her wand in the air that something was going to go terribly wrong. He didn't have time to react, although he should've seen this coming. She'd been so sure of herself and her capabilities today, and he could tell she'd wanted to prove something. As she was murmuring the words of summoning, he had reached for his wand, but he was too late. He vaulted over the table and caught her as she crumpled to the floor. The not quite fully realized handkerchief fluttered down to rest on Hermione's face where it rapidly turned a shocking scarlet. Hermione was out cold and a sickening rush of blood issued from her nose. Severus scooped the limp child up into his arms and rushed to the fireplace. As he was running, he managed to point his wand towards her nose and cast a Halting charm. The blood stopped flowing, but he could already feel his robes soaking with it. "Merlin deliver her," he muttered. "Hecate make her safe." Pointing his wand at the hearth, he cried, "Incendio!" and made a mental note to always keep the fire burning from now on. He grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and yelled "Hospital Wing!" Hermione stirred in his arms, as he stepped into the fire. 

Hermione was aware of being carried as the blackness lifted slightly. She wasn't sure where she was going or who was carrying her or even why, but she felt safe. Whoever held her had strong arms and a comforting smell of herbs and spices. She had barely registered this impression when she was whirled back into the dark. 

---------------------------------------------------------- 

"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" cried a surprised Madame Pomfrey as Severus stepped through her hearth carrying a large bundle of robes. The Floo network for the Hospital Wing was reserved for only the most serious injuries. She quickly discerned that the bundle of robes was a bleeding student, and she sprang into action, summoning a hospital bed to Professor Snape. He gently placed Hermione onto the bed. "Miss Granger thought she would show me how much better she was feeling by performing a Transfiguration she was not ready to attempt. I fear she might have seriously injured herself. Would you please bring me the Excruciare Antidote?" 

"Severus, I don't think that's appropriate," said Madame Pomfrey, startled. She had been taking Hermione's pulse which was weak, but steady. "We should try a willow bark or ergot based pain reliever fir- " 

"No," he snarled, "She needs the antidote now. If you won't get it for me, I shall find it myself." 

"Severus, you should remember that _I_ am the one who trained as a Healer," said Madame Pomfrey standing her ground. "Do your really want to risk the complications of the Excruciare when the child is already weakened?" 

"But she'll be in such pain when she awakens," Severus said softly, looking down at Hermione's prone form. 

Madame Pomfrey realized how rare this concern for a student - well, for anyone besides Dumbledore - was for Severus, so she continued gently. "Severus, you know that the Excruciare is primarily used to ease the dying into the world beyond. It is immensely powerful, and it does kill pain, but I don't think Hermione is near death. Do you?" Severus shook his head. "I will give her the strongest ergot-based pain reliever I have, as well as a strong Soothing charm. She'll sleep for a day or so, and when she awakes, she'll feel much better. She's been through worse, and you didn't ask for the Excruciare then. She doesn't need it now." She brought out a vial from the locked medicine cabinet and then magically scooted the bed into place, pulling privacy curtains around it. "Now, I know you care deeply for the child, but you _must_ let me care for her." 

"I don't care deeply for her," snapped Severus, without thinking. "I'm in charge of her recovery. I'm responsible for her." 

"Whatever you say, dear," said Madame Pomfrey gently. "Why don't I give you a Soothing charm, as well." 

Severus responded with a scowl. Madame Pomfrey administered the medicine to Hermione, performed the Soothing charm, and settled her under the blankets. She then headed for her office to log the time and nature of admittance. As she passed Severus, she shoved a piece of chocolate into his hand. 'The Excruciare _is_ a bit extreme,' he admitted grudgingly to himself, as he nibbled on the chocolate, watching Hermione sleep. He dearly hoped that her brain, as well as her positive attitude, wouldn't be damaged when she awoke. 

------------------------------------------------------------ 

Peering through her barely slitted eyelids, Hermione thought that her bedroom was strangely bright. She must've overslept, but she didn't really have the energy to care right now. Well, she'd skip class just this once. She pulled the blankets snugly around herself and fell into a strange dream. She was trying to pick up her wand, but every time she tried, she'd drop it. It was either too hot or prickly with thorns or slippery. No matter how hard she tried to hold it, she couldn't. She could see Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall in the shadows of the dark room in which she stood. They were whispering and looking very stern and disapproving. After she dropped her wand because it was stinging her hand like a wasp, Professor McGonagall pointed at her and said, "That's it. I've seen enough. Go home, Muggle. You don't belong here." Hermione shrieked and sat up. 

It took a moment to realize she wasn't in her bedroom. She was confused, and her head was full of throbbing, scratchy cobwebs. Her body ached like someone had taken a meat tenderizer to every muscle. 'Damn it,' she thought, befuddled. 'I'm back in the Hospital Wing. What happened?' And then the memory of the attempt at the Transfiguration came back to her. She fell back on her pillows, furious with herself. She'd been so confident it would work. Too confident, she guessed. 

Madame Pomfrey walked past the privacy curtains and came to Hermione's bedside. "Good morning, dear, how are you feeling?" she said, feeling Hermione's forehead and then checking her pulse. 

"Miserably," Hermione said weakly. "How long have I been asleep?" 

"Let's see," she replied, "You were brought in at 4:30 Thursday afternoon. It's 9:00 in the morning of Friday. You only slept through one night. Professor Snape wants me to record your rating of the headache pain." 

"He does? Ugh... I'm sure I'll never hear the end of this," said Hermione, "Tell him it's about a seven. It hurts." 

"Well, dear, from what I understand, I'd be surprised if it didn't," said Madame Pomfrey. "Would you like some breakfast?" 

The thought of food made Hermione's stomach rumble, but then a wave of nausea swept coldly through her. "Maybe a piece of buttered toast, please. I'd like some ice water." 

"I'll send for it," she said, pouring Hermione a glass of water. "Oh, you had an owl from your parents; here is their note. Would you like to read it now?" 

Sweet Circe, she did _not_ want to read anything from her parents, even if it was encouraging. She felt ashamed and foolish about her actions and she didn't want to think about them just yet. Besides, she didn't think she could focus on the words. "I'll read it later," she said. "Could the toast wait, Madame Pomfrey? I think I want to sleep a little more instead." 

"Of course, Hermione. I have your Magnifying potion - you mustn't skip a dose. I want you to drink some water as well." 

Hermione drank the contents of the vial and then sipped the ice water slowly. "Did anyone tell Harry and Ron I was here?" she asked. 

"Oh, they came and found you straight away," said Madame Pomfrey. She took Hermione's empty glass and tucked her back under the blankets. "Now then, get some more sleep. Professor Snape will be back to check on you when you wake up again." 

Hermione grimaced. She imagined he'd be prepared to give her a world class scolding after this. Hopefully, he wouldn't take any points from Gryffindor away over this mistake. She snuggled under the covers and had a flash of being swiftly carried in someone's arms. She opened her eyes wide. Had that been Snape? "Madame Pomfrey?" she called. 

The Matron looked around the privacy curtains. "What is it, my dear?" she said. 

"Who brought me to the hospital wing?" Hermione asked. 

"Why, Professor Snape, dear. He carried you through the Floo network straight from the dungeons." 

"Um.. That's what I thought," mumbled Hermione, remembering how safe and protected she'd felt in his arms. She closed her eyes. 'Maybe he won't be too angry with me after all,' she thought before sliding into a peaceful sleep. 'He probably would've used Mobilicorpus if he was really mad.' 


	14. Regaining Chapter 14: Relapse

**Regaining by Vivien**

Chapter 14: Relapse 

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for an update. Real life intruded. But the story is almost to an end, and Hermione will be feeling better shortly. I promise. 

Also I'd like to invite anyone interested in discussion and fan fic about the female characters of the HP universe to join my new list, Hogwarts, A Herstory, at www.yahoogroups.com/group/HogartsAHerstory. 

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_Relapse - 1. to slip back into a former condition, especially after improvement or seeming improvement._

It was Friday evening before Hermione woke up again. This time her head felt clear of pain, if a bit achy from too much sleep. She sat up, stretched, and noticed the overflowing side table. The chillingly normal offerings of flowers, candy, and cards were piled upon it, as well as a small parcel. She reached for the envelope with her mother's handwriting. She opened it and pulled out a card with a letter inside. 

"Dear Hermione," it read, "Your father and I are sorry to hear you're in hospital again. We wish we could be there with you. I understand you disregarded your teacher's advice and attempted a spell you weren't ready for. I hope that our words of encouragement didn't lead you to take foolish chances. Please heed Professor Snape's advice in the future, my darling girl, so that you may keep yourself whole and well. I sent some of your old novels which I thought you might like to read while you're recovering. (I hope the box isn't too heavy for the owl.) Remember that you will overcome this, sweet, but you must go slowly. Let us know if we can send you anything else. Much love, Mother." 

Hermione dejectedly put the letter back in the card. 'Great,' she thought, 'I've only just told my parents, and they're already taking Snape's side.' She sighed, knowing they should. She had been very foolish. She opened the parcel and smiled at the sight of some of her old favorites. A great desire to be with her parents welled up inside her. It would a relief to be home again. Why did she think that something as simple as a restful break and the support of her family could so dramatically advance her healing? She was still damaged, still under the pressing weight of her disability. Now she was probably worse off than she had been. She had run the gamut of emotions since October, and she'd thought she was done with this bleakness that seeped throughout her soul. She didn't want to feel anything. It hurt too much to feel. 

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Madame Pomfrey made sure that Hermione took her pain drops and Magnifying potion. Then she ordered her a meal from the kitchens. She was concerned by the girl's lack of response. Merlin knew she'd seen Hermione Granger and her friends in the infirmary more than the usual Hogwarts student. Hermione didn't seem herself tonight. 'But then she has been through more than enough trauma this year,' she thought, watching Hermione stare silently at the windows across from her bed. Poppy had removed the privacy curtains since Hermione was the only patient in the ward, but now she wondered if her patient would be more comfortable with them back up. 'Surely the boys will come along soon,' she thought, 'They'll put Miss Granger in a better mood.' 

Unfortunately, Poppy was incorrect on that account. Harry and Ron had hurried to the Hospital Wing as soon as Dumbledore told them Hermione was once more awake. 

"Hey you, what on earth are you doing here again?" said Harry teasingly, as he approached Hermione's bed. 

"Yeah, what is this," cracked Ron, helping himself to the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans that he'd brought Hermione the night before, "a plot to hoard extra sweets for your long, sugar free summers?" 

Hermione didn't answer. She didn't feel like laughing at her friends' jokes. She didn't feel like talking to anyone. She wanted to be quiet for awhile longer. 

When she didn't reply, Harry said seriously, "Hermione, are you okay? Are you not feeling any better?" 

Hermione looked at his earnest face, and she felt a senseless anger rise within her. Why did they insist on bothering her with stupid questions? They weren't stuck here in hospital, wishing fervently for their magic to return to them. They were probably using this visit as an excuse to put off their homework. 

"No, I'm not feeling better," she said sharply. "I'd rather be alone right now. I'm... I'm tired." Actually she was awake enough to know she shouldn't act like this, but it felt good to lash out at someone. 

Harry and Ron glanced at each other, and Ron said, "Oh hey, we're sorry, Hermione. We just wanted to check up on you, that's all." 

"Well you've checked up on me," she said. "I'm not dead yet, and I'm not better, so you can go now." Hermione saw the shocked, hurt looks on their faces, and she immediately felt sorry for her words. She put a hand over her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me. Thanks for coming to see me, but I'd like to be alone for awhile. I'm really upset over.. all this. Do you mind? I'm sure I'll be in better spirits tomorrow." 

"Of course, Hermione," said Harry. "Get some more rest, and if there's anything I can do... " He trailed off, knowing there wasn't much at all that he could do. He wondered what exactly had happened to put her in hospital again, but he thought it very wise not to ask. 

Ron was about to ask Hermione if she wanted them to bring her homework to her, but with a rare flash of foresight, decided this wasn't a good idea. Instead he said, "Ginny says hello. She said to tell you to feel better soon." 

Hermione smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Harry and Ron awkwardly left the Hospital Wing, confused and worried about their friend. Hermione watched them leave. She went back to staring at the windows, imagining the worst case scenarios of her future playing over and over again. 

Madame Pomfrey, who had been listening from her office, almost cast a Cheering charm on Hermione there and then, but decided to wait and see what the morning brought. This child was in a fragile condition, and she didn't want to toy with the raw emotions inside of her, much as she wanted to ease her pain. She wondered whether Severus would be speaking with Hermione this evening or not. He seemed to have formed a bond with Hermione, which amazed her to no end. Maybe he would be able to break through whatever malaise the child was suffering. 

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Severus had planned on staying with Hermione on Thursday until she woke up. However, after the fifth or sixth time he questioned Madame Pomfrey's healing techniques and treatment decisions, she had escorted him out of the Infirmary at wand point. She was smiling ferociously and muttering things like "Think you're a fully qualified Healer now, do you?" and "If you'd let yourself actually like people before this, you wouldn't be so distraught, dear." She ordered him to get some rest before he came back or "Merlin help me, I will place a warding charm on this whole wing to keep you out of it." He'd been dumbfounded at first, and then furious. But he realized he would be better off researching what to do next rather than worrying and waiting. The night passed quickly with further reading, note taking, and letter writing, and Severus didn't realize it was morning until his alarm rang. 

With concern for Hermione battling his exhaustion, classes the next day went excruciatingly slow. By the end of the day, his personal record of detentions given and House points taken had been shattered. He'd even taken one point from Slytherin because Draco Malfoy simply annoyed the hell out of him for whispering to his thick headed cronies once too often. Potter and Weasley had risen to the occasion and lost twenty house points each, although he couldn't quite remember why. 

Once he had hastened the last of the day's students out the door, he'd headed for the Hospital Wing once more. Hermione was still asleep, and Madame Pomfrey demanded that he either get in a bed himself and let her care for him or go get some sleep on his own. He chose to leave quickly. Pomfrey was not one to tussle with over one's state of health. He knew first hand that she tended to use drastic measures to ensure the recovery of unwilling patients. He'd always heard she'd been a Hufflepuff, but he often thought she'd have made a damn fine Slytherin. In any case, he finally managed some much needed rest that afternoon. 

Severus slept through dinner and awoke with a start as old nightmare images swirled into his subconscious. He arose rather blearily, changed his clothes, and made his way to see Hermione. He wanted very much to scold the impudent child, but whenever the image of the almost handkerchief saturated with redness flashed through his memory, that desire waned. As he entered the Hospital Wing, he readied himself for whatever dizzying onslaught of teen aged emotions she might throw his way. 'If she is awake and coherent, that is,' he thought grimly. 

Hermione saw Professor Snape enter the room. He looked worried again, and like his normal grumpy self, with his black robes billowing behind him like sinister wings. He'd probably want to give her a lecture. She felt herself detaching even more from the fear and anxiety she knew was bubbling under the surface. She didn't care to watch him approach and sit down in the chair beside her bed. 

Severus was more than a little concerned that Hermione didn't acknowledge his presence. She kept staring across the room, her eyes focused on the darkened windows. "Miss Granger?" he said softly. 

Hermione slowly shifted to look at him. She thought again how urgently he had carried her in his arms to the Infirmary. She must have been bad off indeed. "What, Professor Snape," she said with a sigh. 

"How are you?" he asked. He realized he had no idea how to proceed. He could fall back on his comfortable sarcasm and sneers, or he could try to tap the uncalled for feelings of care and responsibility he had for this student. Either way he felt unbalanced and unprepared. 

"I'm here," said Hermione flatly. "I guess that says it all." She looked away again. 

"So what have you to say for yourself?" he said, trying not to sound too harsh. 

Hermione shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Nothing. I was stupid and full of myself. I thought I could do it." Her voice carried no emotion whatsoever. 

Alarmed, Severus paused. He was almost prepared for her anger or her tears, but he didn't know how to respond to this apathy. "It was an error in judgment, certainly. However, the simple fact remains that you were able to do basic conjuring. The effort wasn't fully realized, and obviously you shouldn't try it again until you're better prepared, but you did it. That is promising, Miss Granger. As for your injuries, you might have a temporary set back, but you'll recover after a time of rest." 

She turned her head, and with haunted eyes, said, "Oh good, a chance to watch more time slip away from me. More recovery. I can't wait." 

Severus frowned. "Yes, more time to rest and get well. You will stay in hospital until Madame Pomfrey sees fit to release you. Then you will take a full week away from magic. To ensure that you don't exert yourself, I will ask for your wand to keep safe until you need it again. You may attend classes, if you feel well enough, but after discussion with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, it has been decided that you will no longer be attending their classes." 

"What?" Hermione cried, looking at him sharply. "What do you mean not attending their classes? I have to take Transfiguration and Charms to become a fully qualified witch." 

"Yes, I know that, Miss Granger," said Severus, "You will complete the courses in independent study with both professors. That way you can progress at your own pace and not compare yourself to your classmates. We're working on your schedule to make sure your other classes aren't disrupted." 

"Oh," said Hermione, closing her eyes. She stared at the ceiling. "This will never end. Maybe I should... " 

"Should what, Miss Granger," said Severus, catching Poppy Pomfrey's eye. She had been watching them closely from her desk since he walked into the room. 

"Nothing," said Hermione. 

"For our next session after your week of rest, why don't you bring Potter or Weasley along?" said Severus trying to lighten the mood. "I though we could practice hexes, and you'll need a subject." 

Hermione didn't respond, but her eyes flickered with anger. 'Good,' thought Severus, 'Show any emotion you want, just don't close down.' 

"I will leave you to rest," said Severus, standing, "I will be checking on you frequently while you are in the Infirmary. Good night, Miss Granger." 

Hermione nodded in his direction and went back to staring into space. Severus walked over to Poppy. With a flick of his wand, he cast a Voice Muffling charm, and asked, "What is going on, Poppy? What is wrong with her?" 

"I don't know, Severus, but she's not acting like her normal self at all. And I've seen her in here enough to know the difference," replied Poppy worriedly. "Even Potter couldn't get more than a faint smile out of her." 

"Then it wasn't just me and my considerable lack of charm," Severus said wryly. 

"Of course not, Severus," said Poppy. "I've done a thorough examination of Miss Granger. All of her body systems are working within normal parameters. I didn't do a brain scan yet, as I wasn't sure what magic she would be allowed to do." 

"From what the Healer at St. Mungo's told me, she should have total rest for a week. Do you have her wand?" 

"Yes, right here," said Poppy, reaching into a desk drawer. "Are you sure that confiscating it is a good idea? I would shudder to think how I'd feel if someone took my wand from me. Don't you think she'll be insulted that you don't trust her?" 

"I don't trust her," said Severus with a snort, slipping Hermione's wand into one of his robe pockets. "Not when it comes to using magic when she shouldn't. She's one of the most overachieving, presumptuous students I've taught. Of course she would use it, if only to se what she could and couldn't do. I won't risk her further hurting herself out of hubris." 

"Well, you're right on that account," said Poppy, "She is a driven girl. Frankly, I'm worried about her mental state. I think we should consult with Minerva, as Head of Gryffindor House, about addressing this issue. Maybe it's time for Miss Granger to receive a different kind of help. Mind you, I have noted how well you work with her, but we both know that dealing with emotional situations is not your forte. I watched you floundering just now." 

"Let's give her a little time," said Severus cautiously. "When do you think she should go back to Gryffindor Tower?" 

"Oh, I should think by tomorrow morning," replied Poppy, glancing worriedly at Hermione's still form. "She's not ill but for her previous injury. Poor child, why did this have to happen to her?" 

"A question I've asked myself time and time again, Poppy," said Severus miserably. "You'll let me know right away if there is any change in her condition?" 

"Of course, Severus," said Poppy, smiling, "I know how much her recovery means to you." 

"I know how much it means to her," said Severus. "Finite incantatem. Good night, Poppy." 

"Good night, Severus," she replied. She watched him go, thinking for a moment that this young man bore more weight on his soul than anyone she'd ever known. She had her suspicions as to why he'd been assigned to Hermione's case, knowing as she did the gaps in his history. Despite the ominous rumors, and his own off-putting manner, Poppy rather liked Severus. He was excellent about keeping the Infirmary well stocked with the potions she needed, which freed up her time to care for patients. The Potions master before him had never offered that assistance. 

Poppy sighed, and her thoughts turned towards Hermione. The child was suffering, and while she knew many things about a patients mind and body, she had never faced a situation like this. A Listener was clearly in need at this point. Writing this notation down in Hermione's chart, she decided to recommend this course of action to Minerva first thing in the morning. Her train of thought was derailed by a commotion coming from the entrance if the Infirmary. 

"Ow, my eye, my eye," squealed a Slytherin third year, holding a hand to her unnaturally bulging left eye. 

"Shut up, you cow," shrilled her companion, "Look what you've done to my feet." 

Poppy Pomfrey rolled her eyes. This hex happy generation of Slytherins would be the death of her. She waved her wand to replace the privacy curtains around Miss Granger. "What's this now?" she said, in her most disapproving voice possible, and she scurried over to deal with her new patients. When the next morning came, she would find the urgency of her request for a Listener tempered by Miss Granger's seemingly improved mood. Later, she would berate herself for being so easily assuaged. 

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When Hermione left the Hospital Wing, she retreated directly to her room. She didn't stop to talk with Harry or Ron, saying she wanted to rest. She tried to feel furious with Snape for taking her wand, but it took too much of her energy. Hermione was also becoming vexed with seeing the looks of pity and worry directed towards her, but again, the energy to care eluded her. She wanted to be totally ignored for awhile. Picking up a novel from the box her parents sent her, she began to read, ignoring the soft knock on her door. After a few pages, the knock became a bit more pronounced. 

"What is it," she called out, annoyed. 

"It's Ginny," said a soft voice from behind the door. "Can I come in a minute?" 

"I'm not feeling well, Ginny," said Hermione, "Maybe later." 

There was a pause. "We're all worried about you, Hermione. I just want to see if you're all right." 

"I'm fine," said Hermione testily, "I simply want some peace and quiet. Tell Ron and Harry that I'll talk to them soon enough." 

"I'll tell them," said Ginny, "but it would be better if you told them yourself. They didn't send me up here, Hermione." 

Hermione tossed her book down in frustration and stomped to the door. Cracking it open, she peered at Ginny Weasley's gentle face. "You've seen me now, Ginny," she said, trying to keep the edge of irritation out of her voice. "I'm fine, and I promise I'll feel more up to dealing with everyone later. Now can you leave me alone for awhile? Please?" 

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable or angry," said Ginny, "but you're my friend, too, and I care about you." 

Hermione smiled a tired smile. She knew Ginny was sincere, but that didn't make it any easier for her to talk with her. "I know, Ginny. Thanks for checking up on me. Maybe we could take a walk later and chat." 

"I'd like that," Ginny said, "I'll let you get back to your rest." She closed the door carefully. Hermione flopped onto her bed and scooped a napping Crookshanks into her arms. Her mind swept her back into the well worn wallows of her fears of the future. Hugging Crookshanks closely to her, Hermione shook in noiseless sobs for what seemed like hours. 


	15. Regaining Chapter 15: Resolution (Final ...

Regainining 

By Vivien 

Chapter 17: Resolution 

_Resolution: 2. a determining; decision as to future action_

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"Potter? Weasley? A word, if you please." 

Harry and Ron hung back as the rest of their classmates left the Transfiguration classroom. It was a gloomy Tuesday morning, made even more so by Hermione's self-imposed exile to her room for the past few days. 

Professor McGonagall regarded the boys kindly. "I wanted to inquire about Miss Granger. How is she doing? I haven't seen her at mealtimes since... the incident." 

"Honestly, Professor, we're concerned about her," said Harry, "She won't leave her room." 

"Ginny's been checking on her every few hours," continued Ron. "She said Hermione's not looking well at all. She stays in bed reading novels and pretty much ignores everyone who tries to talk to her." 

"We've been bringing her food, but she's not eating much, either, apparently," said Harry. "We were going to talk to Madame Pomfrey this afternoon to ask her what we should do. I've never seen Hermione in such a state. She won't even talk to me." 

"Thank you, boys," said Professor McGonagall, worriedly reaching for quill and parchment and hastily scribbling something down. "I'm glad you let me know. I will speak with Madame Pomfrey myself. You may go." 

As the boys left, Minerva walked over to the classroom fireplace. She transfigured the flower vase on the mantle into a hinged box and took a pinch of Floo Powder from it. Flinging it into the fire, she called, "Poppy, do you have a moment?" 

Poppy Pomfrey's head appeared in the fire. "What is it, Minerva?" she replied. "Make it quick, if you please." 

"I've just spoken to Potter and Weasley. It doesn't sound like Hermione is improving at all. Should I order her to the Hospital Wing?" 

Poppy sighed. "Did they indicate she was acting strangely, like she might hurt herself or anyone else?" 

"No, not really. She's withdrawn to her room, and she isn't responding to any of her friends. Not eating well, not talking to anyone... what shall I do, Poppy? I've already started a letter to Madame Valerian." 

"I don't think we need to sequester her here. I assume her friends are keeping a close eye on her?" 

"Miss Weasley is checking on her frequently." 

"Have them notify me immediately if they notice any unusual changes. Make sure you let Madame Valerian know the urgency of the situation. Hermione needs a trained Listener to evaluate her case. A patient needs me, Minerva, I must go." 

"Thank you, Poppy," said Minerva, as Poppy's head disappeared from the fire. She transfigured the box back into the flower vase and returned to her desk. She began writing. 

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Hermione was filthy. She hadn't bathed and had rarely left her bed since Saturday. Crookshanks was pointedly ignoring her now, having left the bed for the less fragrant desk chair. She'd run out of novels to read on Monday night, and now she was literally aching with boredom and frustration. Damn Snape for taking her wand away. She could barely function at Hogwarts without it. The least he could have done was make sure she had matches and a bleeding candle or two in her room. She had had to ask Ginny to enchant her lamps to turn on and off with vocal commands. She felt ridiculous asking the lamps to perform. She had spent the morning staring at the ceiling while shamelessly wallowing in self-pity. The inner dialogue taking place inside her head was pathetic and whining at times, brave and resigned at others, but never clear as to a course of action. As the sun rose fully to shine into the darkest corners of her room, the thought she had been dreading most became formed. 

'If I left Hogwarts now, I could transfer to a Muggle school. It might take some doing, but I know Dumbedore would help me. Potions could be stand for chemistry, Herbology for botany... we could figure out the rest. I would have time to take the A levels in the spring, and then...' 

'Yes, Hermione, what then? What exactly are you going to do in the Muggle world? Be a dentist? The wizarding world is a part of you. You can't shrug it off because of a setback in your brilliant academic career. This is your life.' 

'This is so unfair. I want to go home. I want Mum and Dad to make everything better again.' 

'For gods sake, Granger - you're sixteen years old. They can't kiss it and make it all better anymore. You have to deal with it yourself.' 

'I know I do. I know. It's hard. I'm not a quitter, even though quitting is the only thing I can think of to do.' 

'Think of having a bath. Let's take this one step at a time. Get out of bed and do something.' 

Hermione wasn't sure if this kind of heated inner debate was a good thing or not. It would be just her luck to go insane on top of everything else. However, the idea of going back to the Muggle world was not without its good points. She needed to consider all of her options. She swung her legs over the bed, slid into her fuzzy slippers, and headed for the Prefect's bathroom. She hoped the password hadn't changed yet. She knew that technically she shouldn't use it, but she needed a hot, lavender-scented soak like no one else in the castle could possibly need one. 

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Luckily the bathroom had been deserted, and the password had worked. When Hermione returned to her room an hour later, she saw that the House Elves had replaced her bedding, made the bed, and thoroughly aired out the room. Crookshanks glanced at her from his customary place on her pillow. Hermione smiled, feeling the muscles stretch her face. How could she have stayed in that bed so long? It felt so good to be out of it. 

She dressed in her jeans and her favorite sweater, threw on her robes, and then sat down at her desk. What to do now? It was too late for breakfast, but Hermione thought she'd stop in the kitchens on the way to the library. She wasn't in the mood to do any schoolwork, but she did want to check the Muggle studies section. She thought there might be some novels to check out. It had been so long since she'd had a chance to catch up on fiction. She might be out of bed and out of the worst of the wallowing, but she wasn't quite ready to face either of her worlds just yet. 

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Hermione managed to leave the kitchens thoroughly stuffed with her favorite kind of quiche and a few different pastries. While the state of the House Elves enforced labor still concerned her greatly, she couldn't deny that they enjoyed serving humans. At least at Hogwarts they were treated as well as slaves could be treated. She was grateful for them, since her appetite, which had been dormant for the past few days, had suddenly come roaring to life. 

In much better spirits, she checked out a few books from the library, including the complete works of Shakespeare in one light, magically compressed volume. 

Madame Pince had eyed her suspiciously. "Why aren't you in class, young lady?". 

"I'm recovering from a tragic malady. I have the whole week off," she said, a bit cheekily. Hermione had never cared much for the librarian. Seeing Madame Pince's eyebrow shoot up even further, she added, "Ask Madame Pomfrey if you don't believe me." 

"You ought to be resting then. Back to your dormitory, Miss Granger. You shan't be recovering from your _malady_ in my library." 

Not for the first time Hermione wondered if Madame Pince was any relation to Professor Snape. She huffily took her books and left the library. This placed her in a quandary. Having finally left her room, she didn't want to go back to it just yet. She wanted to avoid the other students and teachers as much as possible, and she couldn't stay in the library. Where to go, then? She looked up and down the hallway in the hope she might find the Tranquillity Parlor, but no such luck. 

'Right then, Granger - let's go exploring.' 

Hermione headed off to the only part of the castle she knew of that didn't have many classes in regular session. The East Tower wing contained classrooms for a few upper level courses, but to Hermione's knowledge, not much else. She was hoping to find a comfortable nook to while away the time. If she saw anyone coming towards her in the mostly deserted hallways, she quickly stepped into shadows to avoid them. In this way, she managed to get to the East Tower undisturbed. 

The hallway here was deathly quiet. She couldn't even hear the murmuring of lectures from behind closed doors as she had passing through the rest of the castle. She peeked into a few empty rooms as she walked. They did not look conducive for a comfortable reading spot. Most of them were stacked with old desks and antiquated school equipment or dusty, large boxes of mysterious shapes. Under normal circumstances, she would have wanted to stop and investigate, but she was quickly running out of steam. She hoped she would find a place to sit soon, or she would be forced to go back to the dormitory for a rest. 

'Stupid Leeching Elixir, stupid Voldemort, stupid magic,' she grumbled, as she began the ascent up the spiral staircase of the East Tower. She wished more than ever for her wand, if only because she was accustomed to having it when she was prowling about Hogwarts. 

Stopping to catch her breath by a turret window, she finally spied what she had been looking for. An unlocked wooden door opened with a creak onto a tiny room. It looked almost like a guard's room, although she could only imagine what would need to be guarded in the tower. All that the room contained was a small fireplace, a threadbare armchair, and a large window. As Hermione walked into the room, the fireplace automatically flamed to life. 

"Well, that's convenient," Hermione said aloud, glad for the warmth. She made her way to the armchair and plopped down onto it, causing a great cloud of dust to puff into the air. Coughing and waving the dust away, she walked over to the window. She gazed at the expansive view of the rugged Scottish countryside beyond the lake and the forest. The gray sky somehow made the colors of the landscape more deep and pronounced. Hermione hopped up onto the window ledge, which was large enough to sit upon. She looked down. This room was higher up than she had thought. At the base of the tower were the jagged rocks of the cliff which rose above the lake's waters. Curiosity satisfied, and the dust clouds settled, Hermione returned to the armchair, sitting down carefully this time. She opened the volume of Shakespeare, turned to Hamlet, which she had always meant to get around to reading, and slipped into another world. 

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The Common Room of Gryffindor Tower was bustling by late afternoon. Harry and Ron should have been doing their Defense Against the Dark Arts homework, but neither of them were in the mood. A game of Exploding Snap seemed much more relaxing. Ginny wasn't back from classes yet, and since boys were not allowed in the girls dormitory without an escort, they hadn't checked in on Hermione. Both had been relieved when Professor McGonagall had said she'd take care of what was happening. 

As such, they weren't too surprised when they saw Professor McGonagall enter through the Fat Lady's portrait hole. "Good afternoon," she said, addressing the startled room. Usually their Head of House only came to the Common Room in matters of urgency or excessively loud noise. Apparently neither situation was the cause of her arrival, and the chatter of the room resumed as McGonagall went towards the stairs to the girls dormitory. Lavender heaved a sigh of relief that her duties as a Prefect were apparently not needed. 

When Professor McGonagall returned to the room with a worried frown, the room hushed again. Striding over to Harry and Ron, she said, "Where is Miss Granger?" 

"She's not in her room?" asked Harry. 

"Obviously not, Mr. Potter," she said. 

"Ginny's not back yet, and Hermione only opens the door to her," said Ron. 

"Lavender, go immediately and check the girls bathrooms. Check the Prefects, as well," McGonagall ordered. "Has anyone seen Miss Granger today?" 

The rest of the students shook their heads no. Harry stared in bewilderment. Surely if Hermione was feeling well enough to leave her room, she would feel well enough to talk to her best friends. 

Ron said, "Maybe she's in the library." 

Ginny walked into the room at that moment. She glanced about, registering the presence of Professor McGonagall and the faces of her peers. "What's wrong? Is it Hermione?" 

"When was the last time you saw Miss Granger?" said Professor McGonagall. 

"This morning, before class," replied Ginny, "I checked on her right after lunch, but she wasn't in her room. I didn't have time to check, but I figured she was in the bathroom." 

Lavender hurried down the dormitory steps. "She wasn't anywhere in the dorms," she said, breathlessly. 

"Do you think something's wrong, Professor?" asked Harry, concerned. It wasn't like Hermione to disappear on her own. But then again she hadn't been acting like herself for a few days. 

"I'm sure there is a good explanation as to where Miss Granger has gone," she said soothingly. "I'm going to check a few places myself. I would ask you to stay in the dormitory, but since I know you won't, why don't you three go speak with Hagrid and take a look about the grounds. Perhaps Miss Granger needed some fresh air." 

Ron, Harry, and Ginny headed out the portrait hole immediately. Professor McGonagall nodded to the rest of the children and left the room. Her living quarters were skillfully hidden in what seemed to be a dead end corridor past the Fat Lady's portrait. She transfigured the still life painting of a bowl of fruit into a door, unlocked the warding charms, and stepped inside. 

While she doubted Hermione was in any kind of danger, she was considerably worried about her state of mind. The Hermione she knew would never do anything drastic - at least, not on her own - but the fact that her closest friends did not know her whereabouts sent up a warning flag. She waved her wand towards her hearth and commanded "Incendio!" She reached for the Floo powder. 

First she checked with Madame Pince, who sourly informed her that Miss Granger had been in the library earlier that day, but was not there presently. Then she interrupted Madame Pomfrey once more that day and received another negative response. Well, she supposed it was a good thing that Hermione wasn't in the infirmary. Still, she needed to find her. Madame Valerian had promptly responded and wanted to meet with the child that evening. Minerva had never known Celeste Valerian to be dramatic or overblown, so she assumed she found Hermione's case worthy of haste. 

She flung one more handful of Floo powder into the fire. "Severus? I need to speak with you." 

Severus appeared in the fire looking put out. "What is it, Minerva? I'm very busy." 

"Is Miss Granger with you?" 

"What?" His face went a shade paler than his usual pallor. "Why? Is something wrong?" 

"Madame Valerian wishes to speak with her tonight, and no one knows where she is," said Minerva, working hard to keep her voice calm. 

"Shall I perform a Locating spell?" said Severus. If a Listener said she needed to speak with a troubled person, it usually meant there was concern about the person. Most appointments were scheduled less hurriedly. 

"Why don't we both try one," said Minerva, "You know how difficult the shifting structure of Hogwarts makes any kind of Locating spell." 

"I'll take a dose of Clarifying potion beforehand. Maybe that will help. I assume her friends are looking for her? And why, pray tell, haven't they been keeping a better eye on her?" 

Minerva rolled her eyes. "They're looking for her on the grounds. Quickly now, stop finding blame and go do the spell. Floo me when you finish." 

--------------------------------------------------- 

Hermione had read _Hamlet_, _Henry the V_, and the first half of _The Merry Wives of Windsor_ before the "sirrahs", "thous", and "anons" began cluttering up her brain. She then turned to _Wuthering Heights_, but didn't make it far before she started getting restless. She used to think that having all the time in the world just to read would be a dream come true. Having all the time in the world was not all it was cracked up to be. 

Throughout the afternoon she had been opening and closing the window because the automatic fire in the fireplace had no temperature control without a wand. It would blast like a furnace, and then Hermione would crank the rusty handle to open the window. The frigid air would seep in and cool the room considerably, which would then require Hermione to crank it close once more. She was starting to sweat again, so she stepped over to the window and wrestled it open. 

The sight of the lake and the forest darkening with twilight was beautiful. Hermione sat on the ledge, feeling the brisk air cooling her heated body from the wide open pane. She'd have to go back soon. Ginny would have checked on her by now and discovered she was missing. She began going over the checklist of pros and cons of staying at Hogwarts again. Maybe she'd feel better about the wizarding world once she got her wand back. But if she couldn't use it, what was the point. She looked down at the forbidding rocks below her. A cold, unpleasant thought entered her mind. "A quick leap and you wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. One must consider all the options." 

Her eyes opened wide, and she spoke out loud. "Hermione Granger, stop being melodramatic. That is _not_ an option." How could she even contemplate such a cowardly thing? Still the darkness at the base of tower held the possibility. If things were ever _too_ bad... 

"No. Stop that right now. To sleep perchance to dream - aye there's the rub. I'd go through the trouble of flinging myself out a window to find I landed myself in an even worse state. Let's think about the _real_ alternatives." She remained at the window, deep in thought, cataloguing the things she would miss in the wizarding world. She knew deep down that she couldn't leave this world lightly. 

She started when she heard the door behind her shriek open. 

------------------------------------------- 

Severus had had some luck with the Locating spell. Minerva's spell indicated that Hermione was somewhere near the eastern section of the castle, but Severus's pinpointed her as being in the East Tower. He knew that part of the castle fairly well. He had a small greenhouse at the top of the tower where he grew some of the more rare and dangerous plants he needed for potions. Primula Sprout occasionally visited this secret garden, but no one else on staff besides Minerva and the Headmaster even knew about it. He had an idea she might be in the old watcher's room. 

Sure enough, the door to the small room felt warm from the fire blazing inside. But he also felt a wisp of freezing air coming from under the door. Why would Hermione have the window open? Why would she even be in this deserted part of the castle? His heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline rich fear, he flung the door open and stepped inside. 

He had no idea what had been running through Hermione's mind today, but he remembered how depressed she had been the night she woke up. When he saw her perched on the window ledge, his worst fears seemed realized. "What in Hades are you doing?" he screamed with a mix of fury and fright. "Get down from there this instant!" 

"What? I'm n-not doing anything," Hermione stammered, shocked by his appearance and tone of voice. She made to get up from where she was sitting on her knees, but her right leg tangled in her robes throwing her off balance just as she tried to stand up. With a shriek, she felt herself fall towards the open window. "Oh my God!" she gasped as she lost her balance entirely and teetered off the ledge. 

She saw green energy envelope her and felt it tug her into the room again. Faced with the actual prospect of careening to her death on the rocks below, any lingering fantasies of suicide as escape were banished completely from her thoughts. Shaking while she stood on the solid floor by the fireplace, she yelled, "Why did you scare me like that? I could have... Why did you do that?" 

"Scared _you_? Weren't you planning to...?" Severus was incredulous. Surely she meant to jump. Why else would she have been here in this desolate part of the castle after days of brooding? 

"No! I was sitting by the window enjoying the cool air. The fire makes the room too hot, and I have no wand to regulate it. Remember? What are you doing here anyway?" 

"You've caused quite an uproar, Miss Granger," said Severus, slowly regaining his composure. "The entire staff and most of Gryffindor Tower has been looking for you this evening. Why did you choose this place to hide?" 

Hermione almost said "I'm not hiding" but since that was a bald-faced lie, she decided not to say anything. She was still breathing hard, and her muscles were clenched with tension. She plopped down onto the armchair again, ignoring the dust cloud. "I needed a place to think, and I didn't want anyone around to bother me," she finally said. 

Severus's heartbeat was slowing to a normal pace. He believed her. She looked too frightened to be lying about her intentions. He imagined if he had to do any serious thinking anywhere in Gryffindor Tower, he would be quick to seek a different environment as well. Sweet Circe, the child was shaking so hard. He knelt down beside her chair. 

"And what were you thinking about?" he said in a gentle voice. 

Hermione looked at him. How could he be so nice one moment and so horrid the next? When he didn't have a frown or scowl, he appeared to really like her and care about her. "About my life. And what I'm going to do with it. And whether... and whether I'm going to leave Hogwarts or not. It might be time for me to return to my world. The Muggle world." 

Alarmed, Severus quickly replied, "You can't leave, Hermione. You are too gifted. Your talent is needed." He almost winced at his slip of calling her by her given name, but she didn't seem to notice. 

"Oh please, you know that's not correct anymore," she said. "Besides, what am I going to do in the wizarding world? I won't be much better than a Squib, and I've seen how well _they_ fit in. If I cut my losses now, I can still make something of myself in the Muggle world." 

"Or so you're convincing yourself. I won't waste my breath by telling you again that this latest injury will probably not cause any additional lasting damage. Nor will I repeat that highly skilled people, myself included, are working daily on finding an antidote to the Leeching Elixir. I will ask you, Miss Granger, what is it exactly that you wanted to do when you left Hogwarts? Before you were poisoned, what were your goals?" 

Hermione didn't reply at once. With a yearning look on her face, she finally said, "I wanted to be an Auror. I wanted to be an Animagus and be one of the leading experts in Transfiguration in the world. Most of all, I wanted to battle Voldemort. I wanted to be respected as a powerful witch who was important in the struggle against evil." 

"Well, that would look nice on a resume, Miss Granger," said Severus, "Although, besides the Auror bit, being Minerva McGonagall is a job that has already been taken. I am sorry, truly sorry, that these goals might not be reachable at the present. There are other things you could do in our world, things that you do well now. Is there nothing you enjoy learning here besides Transfiguration?" 

"I do like Arithmancy," she said, thoughtfully, "And when you're not being horrid, I even enjoy Potions." 

"You have such potential, Miss Granger, I would hate to see your intelligence and your drive wasted. As for battling Voldemort, I can't think of any reason you couldn't. The Ministry is filled with witches and wizards who never have achieved a fraction of the magical ability you have, but they work against the Dark Lord just the same. Answer me this, would going back to the Muggle world be the easiest choice for you? Or would it be the right choice?" 

Hermione scowled. "Does anyone besides the Headmaster ever get quoted in the wizarding world?" 

Severus tried another approach. "In the Muggle world, when a person loses sight or hearing or the use of the limb, what happens?" 

Hermione knew instantly where he was going with this query. "They find their other senses or muscles compensate. They have to make accommodations, but many go on to lead a normal life." 

"Why should it be any different for you, child?" He paused for a moment. "The reason I was looking for you is that you have been scheduled to meet with a Listener, which I believe in Muggle terms is a psychologist. She wants to speak with you right away. I must apologize to you once more, Miss Granger. You should have met with her before now. I was very callous to assume you would be fine with only extra help in your course work. I never have been good with helping people in need." 

"You've helped me a great deal, Sir. What's this person's name?" said Hermione cautiously. 

"Madame Celeste Valerian. She is highly respected and one of the best in her field. We should make our way back to civilization, Miss Granger. She'll be waiting for you." He stood and opened the door for her. 

As they walked down the spiral stairs, Hermione glanced at Professor Snape. "Professor, I couldn't help notice you called me Hermione." 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Granger. That was an improper slip into familiarity." 

Hermione laughed. "You know, Sir, every other teacher calls me Hermione when in private. I dare say it's not that improper. Do just call me Hermione." 

"Perhaps, I shall, in time," Severus said with a deferential nod. 

"So does everyone think I've gone mental, then, what with bringing in a Listener?" said Hermione. 

"Not at all. We've simply realized we can't give you the solace you need to overcome what you face." 

"Hmm. If you say so. If she'll help me decide what I should do, then I shall be grateful." 

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Once they reached the main floor, Severus guided Hermione to an antechamber near the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall was waiting with a stunning woman dressed in silk robes. Her skin was the color of mahogany with warm brown eyes. Her black hair was done in plaits which were twisted atop her head in an intricate design. The smile on her face made Hermione feel so comfortable and peaceful that she wanted nothing more than to sit down and tell this woman everything that troubled her. She knew this was Madame Valerian before they were introduced. 

--------------------------------------------------------- 

As the months went by, Hermione gradually recovered, both mentally and physically. Between her independent studies with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick and her continued sessions with Professor Snape, Hermione progressed in her abilities, although little by little she came to terms with the fact she might not ever regain her full powers. If it weren't for Madame Valerian's weekly wisdom and guidance in the grieving process, Hermione knew she would never have gotten as far as she had. She found that her friendships with Harry and Ron became stronger once she felt better about herself. She was also pleased to discover that Ginny was becoming a closer friend than ever before. She had always liked the younger girl, and now she found it nice to have a female friend. 

Professor Snape had started instructing Hermione on the brewing of her Magnifying potion, as well as other advanced Potion work, by the Easter holiday break. He found her brilliance breathtaking. She could master potions that even he had found difficult at her age. She delighted in his approval, although she never quite let him know how much. 

-------------------------------------------------------- 

By the end of term, Hermione received a summons to Dumbledore's office. She figured she had some decisions to make about her seventh year. When she entered, she saw that Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were already in attendance. 

"Good afternoon, Hermione," said Dumbledore. "How are you feeling, my dear" 

"Well, Sir. I'm finding myself stronger every day." 

"Excellent. That is very good news to hear," he said, offering her a cup of tea. "Hermione, we called you here to discuss some matters of your last year at Hogwarts." 

Hermione nodded her head, chancing a quick look at the serious faces surrounding her. Surely they weren't going to leave her back a year. She gulped and felt her pulse quicken. 

"You have made extraordinary progress in your studies," said Professor McGonagall, "especially when you consider what you've been through. I am concerned, however, that it would be a mistake to allow you to take Advanced Transfiguration next year. I would propose instead that you continue your independent study with myself, focusing on N.E.W.T. requirements and life skill transfiguration." 

"You mean Remedial Transfiguration?" said Hermione sadly. "Neville told me he was advised to take the class as well." 

"No, Miss Granger, not exactly," said Professor McGonagall. "We would advance with your abilities, and we needn't stick to the curriculum of the remedial class. Your case is unique, and I would keep your training likewise." 

"Professor Flitwick seems to think you would do fine in the regular Charms class, but he does not recommend the advanced course either," said Dumbledore gently. "Hermione, I know that this is a blow, but we only have your welfare in our minds when we make these decisions." 

"I understand, Sir," said Hermione. "It is disappointing, but I am learning how to better cope with disappointment." 

"On the other hand, Professor Figg feels you could take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts with perhaps some minor accommodations," continued Dumbledore. "Advanced Arithmancy should pose no difficulty, and Professor Snape is certain that you will not only excel in Advanced Potions, but you will need greater challenges in that area. Severus?" 

"Occasionally, when the need is present, classes will be offered that are not usually available on a year by year basis. I have decided to offer a class called The Application of Ancient Texts in Potions Brewing. It will be an intensive course which will involve the non-magical translation of texts in a variety of languages, from Ancient Latin to Sanskrit. Be assured, Miss Granger, this class will take a great deal of effort and time, and I will, as usual, not give any student preferential treatment." 

"It sounds wonderful, Sir," said Hermione. "Do you have a text I could start studying? Or suggestions on languages to begin learning?" 

"Well, I take that is a yes to the course, then, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. Professor McGonagall looked proud, and Professor Snape looked smug. Or maybe that was just how he looked happy, thought Hermione. 

"One more thing, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, reaching for a roll of parchment on his desk. "Professor Snape came to me some time ago with concerns about your summer holidays. He was worried that going without practicing magic for an extended time might have a detrimental effect when you started again. This is a special dispensation from the Ministry of Magic that allows you to practice magic over the holidays. The only provision is that no Muggle, not even your parents, may see or be told about your magic. Do you think you can abide by that one rule?" 

"Of course, Sir, I shall keep to the privacy of my room. This is most wonderful news." Hermione was beaming. A whole summer of legal magic lay before her. 

"However no brewing of Magnifying potions, Miss Granger," said Severus wryly, "You aren't approved for that by the Ministry yet." 

"I promise, though I reckon that should be my next achievement," she said, seriously. 

Severus smiled. He was intensely proud of Hermione, but he didn't feel comfortable in blurting such a personal thing like that out. Next year would be a grand year. Translation of ancient texts was a passion of his, and he had the feeling she would take to it as well as she did Arithmancy and Potions. 

"Unless you have any questions, that is all we needed to discuss," said Professor McGonagall fondly. "I must say Hermione, we are all very proud of you. You are a credit to Hogwarts, and indeed, to the wizarding world. Have a lovely summer." 

"I will. Thank you very much." Hermione picked up her parchment, smiled widely one last time, and made her way out. 

"She is an amazing young woman," said Minerva. 

"Quite," said Dumbledore, "She will play an important role in the years to come." 

Severus said nothing. He realized how accustomed he'd grown to Hermione's presence in his life. How strange to find he would actually miss a student over the holidays. He sipped his tea and wished Hermione a pain-free, splendid holiday. 

THE END 

Author's note: PHEW! It's done. Thank you to all who stuck with it to the end and waited so patiently in between installments. Watch for the sequel/transition piece "Seventh Year Interlude" coming sometime in the not too distant future. 


End file.
